


The Admiration Project

by blixciit



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, American Football, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Character Death, OT5 Friendship (One Direction), Sharing a Bed, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Top Louis Tomlinson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29079900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blixciit/pseuds/blixciit
Summary: Louis had thought that he’d enrolled himself into a normal, albeit a little out-of-the-ordinary English class when he signed up for“Imaginative English and the Arts.”Maybe he’d just have to be a bit more creative than usual. He was always up for a challenge.When everyone was handed a sheet of paper and told to list the names of everyone in class from least to most favorite, Louis should have taken it as a hint to run as far away from that classroom as he possibly could.Or the one where Louis has to figure out 10 things he admires about Harry Styles, his self-proclaimed enemy, by the end of the school year.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 19
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, a little background information may be helpful before reading:
> 
> This story is based in Louisville, Kentucky. Why there? I really have no idea, but I randomly decided to name their high school “Crescent Hill,” and there is a neighborhood in Louisville named Crescent Hill. I thought Louisville was fitting. Some locations, such as the diner, are real places in Louisville/Crescent Hill. However, I do not live in Kentucky, so many places in the story are completely fictional and inaccurate.
> 
> Since I have placed them in America, I have adapted the American school system to this story.
> 
> Additionally: When I talk about football in this story, I am referring to American football. If I mention the word soccer, please don’t kill me if you are from literally anywhere else in the world. I know next to nothing about sports in general, so I apologize if the infrequent football games are described a little bit faulty; I tried my best :)
> 
> P.S. Louis’ actual admiration assignment will be the epilogue of this story!

Louis ran over the entire curb when he turned into the school parking lot. He was five minutes late, which would be alright literally any other day of the year. However, it was the first day, and being five minutes late to class your senior year after navigating your way through the school for three years straight is just embarrassing. Louis was not trying to embarrass himself this early in the school year. 

He snatched his backpack from the passenger seat and flung his door open, forgetting to turn the car off before getting out. One of his backpack straps got caught around the steering wheel, causing his bag to slam into the horn. He let out an awkward squeak as the few last few stragglers in the parking lot glared at him. So much for avoiding embarrassing scenarios. The first one had already occurred and he hadn’t even made it to the door yet. 

After pulling the key out of the ignition, Louis locked his rickety old red Toyota Corolla and hurried off toward the back entrance. He made it inside just as the warning bell rang, signaling about two minutes until he’d have to be in class. He released the pent up air from his lungs that he didn’t notice he was holding in and slowed his pace. He watched his feet as he walked, dragging against the white and grey tiled floor since he was too tired to pick them up any higher. There was one single smiley face doodled in black sharpie at the toe of his white vans. If only he could be smiley right now. His homeroom was upstairs. He was _so_ not looking forward to having to walk up the stairs first thing every morning. Why did school stairs always feel so much harder to walk up than regular stairs?

It was as if the sun had just emerged from the clouds when he spotted the all-too-familiar face of Liam Payne sitting grumpily in the back row of the classroom. Liam’s eyes lit up a tiny bit at the sight of Louis trudging towards him.

“Thank fuck,” Louis muttered as he settled into the seat right next to Liam.

“You could say that again. Thought I was going to have to ask the girl next to me to wake me up everyday after class was over.”

“Glad I could be of assistance.” He scanned the classroom for anyone else he tolerated, and upon finding no one, he sat back in his seat and crossed his arms across his chest. “This class is shit.”

Liam nodded in agreement right as the bell rang. The teacher ambled in a moment later with a bright smile on her face.

“Hello guys! For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Mrs. Anderson. I teach History 4, and I’m glad you all decided to take a fourth year of history even though it wasn’t necessary.” Louis and Liam traded knowing glances. Bless her and her pure heart that ignored the fact that ninety percent of the students in the classroom were only taking the class to fill their empty schedules. 

Mrs. Anderson rambled on about the curriculum and the syllabus and first day of school bullshit that had Louis zoning out until it was time to leave. He rushed out of class after saying goodbye to Liam and strode through the hallway in the same style he’d been for the past three years: eyes on the ground and a scowl on his face. As the day dragged on, he hated himself more and more for agreeing to a full schedule instead of leaving early like most seniors. _Colleges,_ his guidance counselor had said. _Colleges want overachievers. Especially the one you’re looking into._ Whatever.

So he went through with it, begrudgingly sitting through all seven periods and listening to new faces talk about the same shit they did every year. It’d been going as swimmingly as it possibly could until he was on his way to his last class of the day. The class he’d been on the fence about taking all summer. 

It was a new class, just added to the list at the end of his junior year. His english teacher had been adamant about him taking it, claiming that it had his name written all over it. From the way she described it, it sounded like a regular english class with a bit of a creative twist.

“So, creative writing?” He’d asked.

“No… more like… artful writing.”

He’d given her the most incredulous look he could muster up. She just laughed at him. So, on the day of the deadline, he called his guidance counselor and told her that he wanted to take the class. He ignored the annoyed sigh on the other line of the phone.

He’d gotten himself somewhat excited for this fancy writing class, which is why his parade was rained -- no, _poured_ \-- on the second he walked through the door. Front row, right in the center, sat Harry Styles and Niall Horan in all their glory. Louis very nearly turned right back around and walked out, but he settled for clenching his fists and marching to the back of the room, taking the seat farthest from them.

Mr. Golden Boy Styles and BFF Niall Horan were everything cliché about popular boys. Harry, quarterback of the football team with Niall as his left tackle. Girls painted their football numbers on their cheeks at every game, obsessing over them like they were proper celebrities. Louis thought it was pathetic.

The two boys had been best friends since elementary school, and even then they were everybody’s favorite duo. Harry with his big bright eyes and pink cheeks and childhood charm, Niall with his bubbly disposition and dorky braces and good jokes. Teachers had always worshipped the ground they walked on. Even though they were friendly with everyone, their only real ‘friends’ were each other. A Crescent Hill High party without Harry and Niall was simply just not a Crescent Hill High party.

The boys were like a fantasy to everyone in school. Louis despised them.

Well, Niall wasn’t _terrible_ , per se, but he was loud and boisterous all the time and it drove Louis nuts. Harry, on the other hand, was a total nightmare.

Even though chances were Harry didn’t know Louis’ name, Louis still hated every bone in that boy’s body. The way he held his head up high sporting his dumb dimples, making the girls quite literally trip over their own feet as he sauntered by. The way he’d greet his fan club with a kiss on the cheek and a cheesy compliment and have them swooning over him all week.

He’d heard a rumor once that a group of popular girls made a list of who would get to ask Harry out and in what order, all just hoping to squirm their way into his pants.

All so fucking cliché. Louis could vomit.

He wiggled his hands underneath his thighs to keep himself from biting at his nails. He was getting himself all worked up over having to bear a class with Harry Styles, and he was _not_ going to give him that satisfaction, regardless of whether or not he knew.

The classroom looked like an art class. In fact, it probably was, and they let whoever the godforsaken teacher of this godforsaken writing class just use the room for one period a day. 

The man himself walked in a full minute after the bell rang, carrying a computer bag and a stack of paper. He was young, definitely fresh out of college. A slightly tousled head of brown hair hung over his forehead a bit, and he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. 

“What’s up guys, I’m sorry I’m late,” he started as he set his things down on his desk. “I had to talk to my supervisor one last time before she let me teach this class.”

He pushed himself onto his desk and sat facing the students, crossing his legs at his ankles. His eyes scanned the room for a moment, taking in the faces. It was a small class, about fifteen kids at most. 

“Now, I’m sure you’ve all been told already that this is not a normal english class. First things first, you can call me Stan. No Mr. Lucas crap. I’m too young for authority terms. I’m, like, three years older than the majority of you, so I’d prefer if you called me by my first name.”

Louis liked him.

“I’m not going to go into a big spiel about grades or worth ethic or any of that shit they shove down everyone’s throats on the first day, so instead I’m just going to jump right into it.” Stan reached behind him on the desk and picked up the stack of paper, hopping down to pass it out. “Your first assignment is an easy one. When I’m done handing out this paper, I’m going to take attendance. Pay attention to everyone’s names.”

His eyes lingered on Louis as he handed him his paper, a bit skeptical, before turning to go back to his desk and take out an iPad for attendance.

“Mia Allison?” Mia raised her hand shyly as everyone in class looked at her. She was beet red by the time Stan snorted and moved on.

He went through a few more names before reaching Niall.

“Niall Horan?”

“Here!” Niall accompanied his annoying wave with a wink, the girls in his immediate vicinity giggled. 

More names.

“Harry Styles?”

“Here.” Louis wanted to knock out Harry’s stupid bunny teeth the second his mouth opened. Before he could, though-

“Louis Tomlinson?”

“Here.”

He now understood why Mia had flushed so hard at the attention. The entire class turned in their seats to stare at Louis like he had ten heads. It was a bit dramatic, really.

He caught Harry’s gaze, who smirked before turning back around in his seat. Louis rolled his eyes so hard it hurt.

Only two students were left after Louis. Once he submitted his form, Stan dropped his iPad onto the desk.

“I hope you all know each other’s names, because now you will be making a list. I promise you that I will be the only person to see your list, so no worries. You are going to list every person in this classroom in order from who you like the least to who you like the most.”

People looked around at each other quizzically.

“I told you guys this isn’t a normal english class. Now get going, you have the rest of the period to figure it out.”

With that, Stan plopped down into the chair behind his desk and watched on as students stared at each other around the room. Louis was already writing.

***

Thinking about it now, it was pretty weird. Like, what could that assignment possibly have had to do with anything? Seating arrangements? Class partners? So Louis did what he did best and didn’t think about it.

That was until Liam called later that night and there was a lull in the conversation. Of course, Louis found himself taking a deep breath and giving him a detailed description of every aspect regarding the class.

“What kind of assignment is that?” Liam asked. Louis was sprawled out on his bed, his phone on speaker laying next to his ear. 

“That’s what I’m saying! And guess who’s in that class!”

“Who?”

“Niall Horan and Harry Styles.”

A few silent moments passed before Liam burst out cackling. Louis rolled his eyes.

“Guess Mr. Styles is number one on your hit list, then?”

“You guessed correct.” He stretched his arms above his head and yawned right into the microphone. “Stan said he’s going to tell us why he made us do it tomorrow.”

“Yeah, what’s with the first name thing?”

“No idea, man.”

Louis complained for a few more minutes until he heard Lottie shouting for him from the kitchen. They said their goodbyes, Liam teasing Louis one last time about his situation. When he made it down to the kitchen, he smelt toast. He spotted Lottie standing next to the oven, inspecting a steaming casserole.

“What did you burn?” He asked. She glared at him over her shoulder.

“Nothing, dickhead. It’s supposed to smell like that.”

“Well what the fuck is it?”

At the best possible time, Jay entered the kitchen still dressed in her work uniform. She went on scolding them for their language before Lottie interrupted her with an all too cheery, “hi, Mom!”

Lottie shuffled away from her dish to make room for Jay, who nodded her approval. She turned to Louis, who was still planted in his spot against the doorway.

“Waiting to be served or something?”

He dragged himself over to the kitchen counter and Jay thumped him on the back of his head as he passed her. She then made her way upstairs to change out of her work clothes.

The second Jay sat down at the dining room table, now in her pajamas, Louis began his rant about the first day of senior year. 

“I mean, the first name thing? Really?” Louis’ eyes were bugging out of his head. Jay giggled.

He’d ended up failing at the whole ‘don’t think about the list’ thing by the time he was curled up in bed later that night. He’d definitely been the only person in class who’d put Harry as his least favorite, no doubt about it. Never in all his years of knowing who Harry was had he ever met someone who hated him. Or even marginally disliked him, for that matter. In fact, he’d talked to far too many people who had an odd obsession with the kid. They treated him like some sort of god. It was painful. 

He eventually drifted off to a place where he could punch Harry Styles in the face freely, and he was severely disappointed when he woke back up to reality the next morning.

***

So he was a teeny tiny bit excited to see what Stan had needed the lists for. No, not excited. Just curious. 

Liam had to tell Louis to shut up three times during homeroom before he obliged. Louis was usually chatty with him, but today was too much for poor, poor tired Liam. 

Louis was vibrating in his seat by the time last period rolled around.

“So I’m sure you’re all just _dying_ to know why I asked you to make those lists yesterday.” _Duh._ “Before I tell you, I’m going to give you each a name of someone in this class.”

The short blonde girl sitting next to Harry raised her manicured hand as Stan began passing out small pieces of paper.

“No questions.”

Louis didn’t miss the ever-so-slight smug smirk on Stan’s face when he was passed his paper. He was only kind of surprised to see ‘Harry Styles’ written on it in blue ink.

“Alright, so most of you have just received the name of the person you wrote as your least favorite person in class,” Stan started, leaning against his desk. “If it isn’t the first person you put, then it’s the second, or third, or someone near the top. What you are going to do with these names is super important. It is part of your year-long project.”

_Year-long project?_

“Oh, calm down. It’s not that huge. You’re basically going to study the person you were assigned for the rest of the year. Watching how they do things, how they talk or write, how they interact with others. Their facial expressions. You can do some outside work, like see what they post on the internet or look into their family on Facebook.”

_So stalking?_

“I know it sounds kind of like stalking.” Louis smirked. “But I promise you, it’s not. I will be the only one who sees your project, unless you decide to share it with your person at the end of the year.”

_As fucking if._

“I’d like to think of this as more of studying. Observing. You’re going to study your person and take notes, do research. Whatever you need to do in order to create a list of 10 things you admire about them. Obviously I didn’t have you study your favorite person because that would be too easy.”

_Admire. Admire? I want to hit Harry Styles with a bus!_

“And I don’t want cheesy one word responses. I want to know the truly fascinating quirks and traits about them and an explanation as to why you found them so interesting.”

Louis was about to have a stroke. Right in the middle of class. He did not _admire_ Harry Styles in the slightest. 

“Who knows, maybe you’ll realize that your least favorite person isn’t that bad, after all.”

He didn’t even think about who had a piece of paper with his own name on it. All he could process was the fact that he had to pay even more attention to Harry stupid mother fucking Styles than he already did, which was, as eloquently put as possible, a burden.

Louis looked over at Harry, who was laughing at something Niall had said. He threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut, and his curls flopped with the motion. He needed a haircut. 

Unease began to unfurl in Louis’ stomach. He would never be able to make this list. He was going to fail this class.

“It’d be cool if the list was a progression,” Stan pondered. “Like, in the beginning, you can tell you’re not too fond of the person, and by the end you realize that they actually do have some admirable traits.”

_As. Fucking. If._

“This is called The Admiration Project. Remember that for when you title your list. I want at least two pages, and don’t even _think_ about telling your person that you were assigned to them!”

 _The Admiration Project._ So fucking cheesy.

***

“There is nothing admirable about Harry fucking Styles, Liam! How am I supposed to do this?” Louis was whining from his spot in the passenger seat of Liam’s car.

“Lou, it can’t be that hard. Just go ask somebody who adores him. They’d probably give you plenty more than 10 things they love about him.”

Liam had a good point. And Louis was never opposed to taking the easy way out. But something inside him was telling him to just suck it up and do it. So, he was going to prove a point to himself. He could do it. Even if, in the end, he ends up wanting to rip his eyeballs out. 

“I want to follow the rules.”

Liam nearly crashed the car.

“Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”

“Come on, Liam, I know it’s going to make me want to put a bullet through my head, but I took the class for a reason. I wanted a challenge. This is quite the challenge, don’t you think?” He was surprising himself with every word that tumbled out of his mouth. He really didn’t know who he was trying to convince: Liam or his own brain.

“Alright, but I don’t want to hear you complaining about how much you hate him on the daily. This is your decision.”

“Oh, Liam, you’re never going to hear the end of it. Just because I’m making good decisions doesn’t mean that I’m going to like them.”

Liam groaned as he pulled into the diner parking lot. 

The familiar scent of the grease and french fries as they walked through the doors had Louis feeling a million times lighter. 

Ever since freshman year, Liam and Louis had been going to Burger Girl Diner every Friday night. They rarely missed their Friday night hangout. The waiters and waitresses knew them like family. On the nights they were the busiest, which was usually right after the football games, Louis and Liam got special treatment. They had their own booth in the corner. The workers made sure that it was always unoccupied on Friday nights.

“Boys!” Shannon scrambled up from her seat at the hostess stand and pulled Louis and Liam into a tight hug. Her black hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail and she smelled of cinnamon. Her baby pink uniform clung to her figure, a prominent brown stain on her right shoulder, and she smoothed out her white apron when she released the boys from her death grip. 

Shannon was a single mother in her mid-forties. Her husband had left her and taken her two sons with him right after the youngest was born. Louis had a soft spot for her because of it. 

She walked them to their usual booth, not bothering to bring menus. The boys had it memorized from front to back. Louis could probably recite it with his eyes closed. Twice.

“The usual? Or going for something different tonight?” Shannon asked with her hands clasped behind her back. 

“Usual, right Li?” Louis asked across the table. Liam nodded.

“Right, thanks Shannon!”

Louis sat criss-cross on the leather seat. This place was like his second home. He’s surprised he hasn’t taken up leaving his shoes by the door. Maybe he’ll try that next week.

The boys fell into a casual conversation for a few minutes, Shannon bringing back their drinks and telling them the food would be ready momentarily.

Just when Louis forgot all about his dumb project, the door chimed and the loud, animated voice of Niall Horan boomed through the diner. Louis turned to look at who was entering, only to roll his eyes. Of _course_ Harry was with him. Why wouldn’t he be?

Louis and Liam trading glances and watched as Harry and Niall were seated a few tables away.

“Perfect seating arrangement, there. Might as well get started on your project right now, huh?” Liam mocked. Louis was facing Harry, who was wearing some kind of scarf around his head, holding his curls away from his face. Louis wanted to yank it off. Maybe pull out a razor and shave all his hair while he’s at it.

“Ha-ha.”

“You can put that dimple on the list. Everybody loves that.”

Louis made a gagging noise.

“Never! That dimple is so ridiculous. All the girls drool over the thing. It’s just a stupid dent in his face. What’s so great about it?” Louis could imagine the steam coming out of his ears as he ranted.

Liam chuckled. Shannon came out a moment later with their food and Louis began his customary burger-eating ritual: two fries, drink, burger, drink.

As much as Louis tried to ignore Harry’s presence, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at him here and there. Harry caught him once, and Louis could see the recognition flash through his eyes. He quickly looked away before Harry could reveal that annoying smirk of his. 

“Would you quit scowling? You don’t even know the kid. Maybe you guys could be friends if you gave him a chance.”

Liam was right, and Louis hated it.

“Liam, you and I both know that one of your greatest qualities is seeing the good in people, but Harry is _not_ good. I can guarantee it. Popular boys are only friends with other popular boys for a reason, and that’s because they all suck.” His tone had a pinch of finalty to it, so Liam let it be.

They finished their burgers in companionable silence. Shannon gave them the bill, and Liam handed her his card since it was his week to pay.

Before leaving, Louis spared one more glance at Harry. He found Harry already looking at him while Niall talked with his mouth full. Instead of his usual smirk, Harry gave Louis an actual smile. Just… a friendly smile. If Louis slightly reciprocated it, then no one had to know.

***

Louis sat behind his glowing computer screen for about three solid minutes without moving a muscle. Every other light in his house was off, and Lottie and Jay had both gone to sleep an hour ago. The hushed buzz of his overhead fan was the only noise. 

_The Admiration Project_  
by Louis Tomlinson  
Subject: Harry Edward Styles 

The number 1 was staring him in the eye, daring him to continue. He huffed out a sigh and began typing.


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m going to pull names out of a hat so that none of you think I’m fucking with you if I accidentally give you your admiration person,” Stan explained as he shuffled little scraps of paper around in a baseball cap. 

It’d been three weeks since the first day of school, and Stan was a tad bit pissed off that the class hadn’t become “family” yet. He claimed it was ‘too small of a class for you idiots not to talk to each other.’

In an attempt to get the class to be friendly with each other, Stan moved the desks into pairs so that every student had someone to sit next to. Louis lost his seat in the back of the class, and he now sat next to Mia, who was alright occasionally. She had a habit of never keeping her opinions to herself, regardless of how absurd or rude they were. Just yesterday she told him that his socks didn’t match his shirt. He’d taken slight offence to her observation. Who matched their socks with their shirt on purpose?

Stan began listing off names in pairs. Mia was partnered with a boy in the back of the class, and she didn’t even try to conceal her excitement about it.

“Harry and Louis.”

“Of fucking course,” Louis muttered under his breath. Harry turned around to Louis, who made no attempt to move to Harry. With that, Harry stood and walked over to the now empty seat next to him.

“Hey, _Lewis._ ” Louis rolled his eyes.

“Hello, _Harold._ ”

They waited in silence as Stan finished listing pairs. Niall got paired with a girl up front who Louis had honestly forgotten was in the class. Niall must not have forgotten, though, if one were to go by the victory punch he threw towards Harry. Students started talking around them, so Louis took that as his cue to look at Harry and begin talking. He found Harry already staring at him.

“So what are we supposed to do?” Louis asked. Harry snorted. 

“You weren’t listening, I guess?” Louis shook his head shamelessly. “We have to pick a poem from this list and annotate it. He said we’re doing something with it on Monday.”

“He sure likes to keep us on our toes, huh?”

“That he does.”

Louis leaned over and snatched the list from Harry’s desk. He started reading, and when he looked over he had to do a double take. Harry is pouting in protest, eyes widened, bottom lip stuck out absurdly. 

“What?” Louis questioned, perhaps a bit too harsh. 

“You’re mean,” Harry replied, but the slight quirk of his lips gave his act away.

“Oh hush up, Curly. I’ll pick the poem, you annotate, and I’ll give some of my genius input as you go.” Harry looked at him incredulously. 

“How about _we_ pick the poem and _both_ annotate it?” Stupid Harry and his studiousness.

Louis narrowed his eyes at him, but looked back down at the paper when Harry gave him another pleading puppy-dog look. Yuck. Ew. Gross. There was no way he was giving into that. 

“Fine, we’ll do it your way. But only because I’m feeling generous today.” _What the fuck, Louis?_ Harry was beaming when Louis slid the paper to where their desks met so that they both could see it. So dramatic.

They read silently for a minute before Harry pointed to one. Well, Harry read while Louis stared at the paper and retained no information whatsoever. 

“I like that one.” He looked at Louis for approval. 

“Okay, then let’s do that one.” Harry smiled and pulled out a sheet of lined paper and a pencil. Louis took that time to actually read the poem Harry picked out. 

It was short. Literally one sentence. Given, all of the poems on the list were unusually short, but this one was the shortest. At first, Louis suspected that Harry chose it solely because of that. However, after reading it, he came to a slightly different conclusion.

“ _It takes great courage to love yourself in a world that is constantly trying to find ways to tell you not to._ Becca Lee,” Louis read aloud. He looked over at Harry, who was already writing, eyebrows pinched together in thought. “It’s kind of short, don’t you think it’s going to be hard to annotate?”

Harry gave a barely perceptible head shake as a response. It didn’t seem as though he was going to ask Louis for any help, either, so Louis sat back in his seat, reading the poem over again. 

The fact that Harry chose _that_ poem was a little ironic, honestly. Harry, who was adored by every soul he came into contact with. Who was praised for every minor accomplishment and rewarded with an endless amount of love and kindness from just about everyone.

He was simply flawless, and that was his biggest flaw. At least Louis thought so. 

Louis had tried peeking at Harry’s work twice within five minutes, but both times Harry pulled the paper further away from him. Louis wasn’t going to argue. He was getting out of doing any work. But his boredom was beginning to eat him alive, and he wasn’t rude enough to go on his phone. He had _some_ decency. 

A few more minutes of Harry diligently working passed by before he put his pencil down and inhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath the entire time.

“You alright?” Louis asked after a short moment of silence on his end and deep breaths on Harry’s.

“Good. Here.” Harry passed Louis the sheet of paper that was now scrawled with his loopy handwriting. 

Louis barely got to read anything before the bell was ringing, signaling the end of the day. He’d only been able to get through half of the first sentence. Harry took the paper back, grumbling something about going over it on Monday before he was following Niall out of the classroom. 

Louis groaned while he picked up his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder. He was the last person in class besides Stan, who was watching him with an amused expression. Louis gave him a questioning look.

“I did that on purpose,” Stan confessed. 

“Did what on purpose?”

“Put you with Harry.” 

“You- why?” Louis threw his arms out to his sides in a huff. 

“Man, I’m doing you a favor. You look at the kid like you want to see him in a casket.”

“Because I do!” Louis exclaimed. “And how are you doing me a favor?”

“If I don’t push you two along, you’ll never be able to do good on your project. You’ll avoid him all the time and then cram it all together at the end. It’ll be total shit. Trust me, I’m doing you a favor.”

Louis furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. If anything, making him spend time with Harry was going to make things ten times worse. His project was going to be shit no matter what.

“Louis, just trust me. I know exactly what you’re thinking, but I also know exactly what will happen. I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys are best friends by the end of the year, honestly. Just don’t make _him_ hate _you_.”

Louis physically cringed at the thought of being best friends with Harry Styles. Stan rolled his eyes. 

“So he didn’t put me as his least favorite, then?” Louis asked after a moment of silence.

“Of course not. The kid wrote ‘I don’t have a least favorite, I don’t know anyone well enough not to like them’ on the first line. He’s too sweet. I just gave him Niall and called it a day. Talked to him after class when he asked why he got his favorite.”

“What’d you say?”

“That his note was probably the most adorable thing I’d ever seen and that I knew he would do better if he had to study someone a little more close to home.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know things, Louis. They chose me to teach this class for a reason. I’m good.” Stan emphasized his statement with a pat on his own back. Louis chuckled. “What I really want to know is why you hate him so much. It doesn’t look like he even talks to you that often, so I can’t imagine anything happened between you two.”

“No, nothing happened. It’s just… a thing. Something I can’t really explain without making no sense to an outsider.”

“Jealousy?”

“No,” Louis replied, and he meant it. He wasn’t jealous of Harry. He didn’t want what Harry had. He didn’t want to be Harry. But something about Harry just hit a nerve, and he didn’t know why, or how, or what nerve, but it irked him. Irked him that he didn’t know.

Stan studied Louis' face for a moment before sighing. 

“Just trust me,” Stan said one last time before standing from his desk. He grabbed his things and Louis followed him out of the classroom. “See you Monday, Louis.”

“Bye.”

Louis made his way to the senior parking lot. Most of it was emptied out already, only the kids on the sports teams remaining. Friday was the first football game of the year, which also meant that there was a pep rally during school. Louis was looking forward to skipping it with Liam and going home early. Liam would probably talk him into going to the game with a few others, but Louis needed to nap first. 

***

Just as Louis had suspected, Liam cornered him in homeroom Friday morning. 

“So you’re coming to the game with me and Zayn, right?” Liam demanded. 

“Sure, but I’m skipping the rally. Don’t really feel like getting excited for a game I hardly understand,” Louis explained, and not for the first time. 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re more of a soccer guy, yadda yadda yadda. Whatever, I’ll pick you up after Zayn tonight.”

Louis nodded and sat down at his desk, barely ready to get the day over with. 

***

Liam showed up at Louis’ house ten minutes earlier than he’d said he would, which meant that Louis was still squeezing into his tightest pair of black skinny jeans when Liam burst through his bedroom door with Zayn in tow. 

“I don’t know what shirt to wear,” Louis said in lieu of a hello. 

“You should probably wear a hoodie, it’s a little cold out,” Zayn replied, flopping down onto Louis’ unmade bed. Louis turned to see that yes, both of them were dressed in hoodies. Zayn had on black sweatpants, and his right pocket looked suspiciously more full than the left. That could only mean one thing, and suddenly it made Louis a tiny bit more in favor of attending the game.

He strolled over to his closet, pulling a clean hoodie out of his pile. It was plain grey and the strings were already tied into a bow. He slipped on his black vans before fixing his hair in the mirror.

They arrived at school twenty minutes after the game started on purpose. They’d been doing that for the past three years. By this time, they stopped making people pay to get in, and nobody stood by the gate to make sure no one snuck in, anyway. 

Liam, Louis and Zayn made their way to the top corner of the stands, where they usually sat. Others joined them sometimes when they realized they had weed. 

The bleachers were full of rowdy teenagers cheering crazy things that the pit came up with. Louis took a quick glance at the scoreboard. They were winning so far, 3-0. As Zayn rolled up a joint, he watched the boys play. He spotted Niall talking to one of his teammates in the field. The coach was yelling something to Harry, who was right in the center of all the action. Harry nodded and put his helmet back on. 

Zayn tapped him in the side and handed him the joint.

“Honors?”

Louis lit it and inhaled, a rush of calm taking over almost immediately. He took another hit before passing it to Liam. 

The crowd started cheering, and Louis looked up just in time to see Harry bolting across the field, weaving skillfully through opponents with practised ease. The stands shook as Harry fired through the opposing players, right into the end zone. The screams from the crowd were deafening. Louis found himself smiling, but clamped his mouth shut the second he realized. Liam and Zayn whistled. 

Harry ended up getting buried in a pile of teammates. The pit was chaos, students chanting all sorts of things, the seniors considerably louder than the underclassmen and juniors. Half of the senior boys were already shirtless, a good amount of them with Harry’s football number or last name painted onto their toned stomachs. 

They were now up by 9. Louis took zero interest in football, but he couldn’t help the little sense of giddiness he felt at the way everyone was ecstatic and freaking out. Harry’s smile was blinding, even from far away. 

“That was for you!” He heard Harry scream as he ran toward Niall. “All of you!” He did a twirl halfway to Niall before Niall pulled him into a crushing hug. They were both jumping with their arms around each other, the team still shouting and smiling.

Harry was extraordinarily selfless about the entire thing. Even throughout the rest of the game, any time he made an advancement, he never celebrated for himself. He went straight for his team, shouting that he did it for them or that he learned from the best or something of the sort. 

At the end of the night, Louis, Liam and Zayn were walking to Liam’s car talking about the game. They rarely paid attention when they went, but something about that game had them in high spirits. Their school had wiped the floor with their guest, winning 28-6.

They were halfway to the car when the football team could be heard behind them, talking loudly, excitement clear in their tones. They started to disperse, and talks of a party at Niall’s house were spreading through the air. 

Speaking of, Niall came jogging toward Zayn. Niall and Zayn had been friendly since middle school, so it was nothing new. Harry trailing almost shyly behind him wasn’t all too odd, either.

“Zayn! What’s up, brother?” Niall shouted, still high on adrenaline, and looped an arm around Zayn’s shoulders. “Boys.” He nodded at Liam and Louis, who nodded back good-naturedly. 

Harry caught up to them and offered a bashful smile. For someone who was supposed to be the most charming boy in school, he was oftly timid. Perhaps that was part of the act.

“I’m having a party at mine tonight to celebrate the win. You guys are coming, right?” Niall asked, his tone expectant. 

Zayn looked at Liam and Louis. Louis looked at Liam, who shrugged and nodded.

“Perfect! See you boys there!” With that, Niall grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him to his car, Harry laughing along the way. 

“You guys are going to have to carry me out of his house if you want me to be there longer than an hour. I’m going to have to get shit-faced,” Louis declared as they piled into Liam’s car. 

“Oh, come on, Tommo. Loosen up, will you? Stop worrying about other people and let’s have fun,” Zayn insisted from the backseat. Louis rolled his eyes, but didn't comment any further. 

***

Louis lost count of how many shots he’d downed after an hour and a half. He also lost Liam and Zayn a few minutes ago, so he was just bouncing around through the crowd trying to find them. After five more minutes of no luck, he managed to locate a bathroom to relieve his bladder. He sat down on the edge of the tub and rubbed at his face when he finished. He was sweaty and his face was hot. He hunched over, leaning his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands. 

The door opened a moment later.

“You alright?” A familiar gravelly voice implored. Louis looked up at Harry, who had concern written across his face. 

“I’m drunk as fuck,” Louis replied simply. Harry chuckled softly and closed the door behind him. 

“Do you need help with anything, or..?” Harry trailed off, taking a few steps towards him. 

“No, sorry. I’ll get out,” Louis answered before attempting to stand. His legs were shaky and the floor felt like it was moving below him. Harry rushed to help Louis sit back down on the edge of the tub.

“Hey, I think maybe it’s time for you to get home. Did Liam drive you here?” Harry asked, steadying Louis with a hand on his shoulder. Louis nodded. “I’ll drive you home, then. Come on, I’ll help you up.”

“But this is your party,” Louis slurred, taking the hand Harry offered him.

“Nah, this is for the team. They did more than me.”

_But you scored more points than all of them combined._

Harry wrapped an arm around Louis' waist and helped him out the door. He leaned him against the wall right outside the bathroom.

“Stay right here, don’t move. I’m gonna piss and then I’m taking you home, okay?” Louis nodded again. 

Louis could hear the pounding music right down the hall. The colored lights were changing way too rapidly for his eyes. Harry walked out a minute later, grabbing Louis’ arm and helping him to the front door. 

“Don’t you need to say goodbye to people?” Louis asked, probably not entirely coherent. 

“S’alright, they won’t miss me. I’ll text Niall later.”

Louis frowned. 

Harry opened the passenger side door for him and helped him in, strapping his seatbelt as his head fell back against the headrest. 

Harry rounded the car and got into the driver’s seat, buckling up and pulling away from the curb.

“Where’s your house?” He asked, looking over at Louis, who was resting his forehead against the cold glass window.

Louis recited his address as clearly as he could manage. He silently vowed to never do shots with Niall again. 

Harry turned the radio on low, and a song Louis didn’t recognize flowed through the speakers. They arrived at Louis’ house fairly quickly. Too quickly. Louis didn’t want to get up yet.

“Do you need help getting out?” Harry asked, already reaching to unbuckle his own seatbelt.

“No, should be good,” Louis mumbled, taking off his seatbelt and opening the car door. “Thank you, Harry. You didn’t have to do this.”

“No problem, Lou, really. I don’t mind.”

Louis smiled at him, then shut the door and hobbled up to his front porch. Harry waited for Louis to get inside before driving off. 

Louis toed off his shoes by the door and dragged himself up to his room. He opened his laptop the second he plopped down onto his bed, typing out the number 2.


	3. Chapter 3

Louis woke up feeling like a knife was protruding out of his forehead the morning after the party. Memories from the night before came back to him in bits and pieces; Niall pouring them all shots, Zayn and Liam jumping around with him, Harry finding him in the bathroom and taking him home.

_Harry finding him in the bathroom and taking him home._

Louis groaned and rolled over in bed, desperately wanting sleep to take him under again. His head was pounding, though, and he needed pain pills. He reluctantly stumbled out of bed and down to the kitchen. He took two ibuprofen before heading back up to his room. 

Jay was off to work already, and he had no idea whether or not Lottie was home or if she’d slept over a friend’s house. He closed his bedroom door behind him and fell back into bed. He smelled of stale sweat and alcohol, but he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes open long enough to shower just yet. 

He woke up the second time to Lottie’s voice next to his ear. 

“Hmm?”

“Were you at Niall Horan’s party last night?”

“Mhm.”

She gasped.

“Louis? At a _party?_ Who even are you? You haven’t partied since, like, freshman year!”

“Fuck off, Lottie. I have a life, you know,” he groaned, turning his head to face her. She was grinning down at him.

“Oh yeah, sure you do. Why didn’t Liam and Zayn spend the night? Didn’t you go with them?”

“I party plenty! And yeah. I didn’t leave with them, though.” The moment it was out and he saw Lottie’s expression turn wicked, he knew it sounded very, very wrong. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh really? What did you mean?”

“Someone else drove me home because I was shitfaced.”

“Who?”

“Why so many questions?”

“Answer me.”

“Harry Styles,” he rushed out, barely intelligible.

She gasped again, much louder this time.

“Harry _fucking_ Styles?! Harry Styles? _The_ Harry Styles?”

“Okay, let’s not give him all that.”

“Oh, we’re gonna give him all that. I thought he was straight?”

Louis glared at her and sat up.

“He is. Lottie, he literally just drove me home, that’s it. I swear.”

She studied him for a moment before giving in.

“If you say so.” She turned around and walked over to the door. “I bet you were drooling over him the entire time, though.”

Before Louis could gag dramatically, she was out the door, her snickers muffled on the other side. He grumbled as he reached for his phone on the bedside table. He had four missed calls from Liam and a text that stated “I’m going to need a very very very good explanation as to why Styles brought you home.”

He facetimed Liam, who picked up after the first ring.

“Talk,” is all Liam said when he answered.

“He found me inebriated in the bathroom and helped me get home. Nothing really to it.”

“Nothing really to it?! You hate the kid!”

“Yeah, but I was drunk and he was helping me. I wasn’t going to tell him to go away. He was just being nice, I guess.”

“What the fuck have you done with Louis? You would never call Harry nice. You used to say he was the Devil’s spawn.”

Louis chuckled into the microphone.

“Oh, whatever. It’s fine, it’s not like I’ll ever have to talk to him again anyway. I’ll just have to ‘study’ him from afar. After Monday, that is.”

“What’s Monday?”

“Stan made us partners in class for some poem assignment. We have to do something with it on Monday. Then he’s out of my hair.”

Louis crawled out of bed and walked to the bathroom.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, my dear Liam, my urocyst is about to burst if I don’t piss in five seconds. Thank you for your concern about me being in the hands of Harry Styles, but I’m still alive.”

“Wow, look at you with the anatomy. Whatever, dickhead. I’ll talk to you later.”

Louis hung up with Liam and went to the bathroom. He was _so_ looking forward to a weekend of doing absolutely nothing. 

***

The weekend was going swimmingly. Louis had done nothing but lay in bed, only getting up for food or to use the bathroom. He had a lot of weekends like this, if he was being honest. But now that he didn’t have a job all year round, he was soaking up every second of lazy time he could scrape together before he had to go off to college. But he tried not to think about that.

His lazy weekend was almost coming to a close. He was planning on spending the rest of his Sunday night wrapped up in blankets with a tub of ice cream, watching Netflix. As he was gathering his blankets and pillows, his phone went off.

“What’s up?” He said when he answered Liam’s incoming facetime call.

“Zayn and I are going to the mall because we need new clothes. You’re coming with us. I’m leaving my house now. See you soon.” And he hung up. Louis stood there for a moment, staring at his home screen, still holding a pile of blankets in his free arm. 

“Fucker,” he muttered and tossed the blankets onto his bed. He quickly changed out of his pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a hoodie. He pulled a black beanie over his oily hair. 

Liam arrived minutes later. Zayn was already hogging the passenger seat, so Louis huffed and puffed his way into the back. 

“Nice to see you too, Tommo,” Zayn greeted. Louis flipped him off.

“What are we going to the mall for, exactly?” Louis questioned as Liam drove away from his house.

“Clothes, I already told you,” Liam replied.

“But for what?”

“We just want clothes,” Zayn bit. Louis was already suspicious. Liam and Zayn had never really cared about what they wore. He found it hard to believe that they’d suddenly taken interest in reinventing their wardrobe. 

The mall was packed when they got there, which was slightly unusual for a Sunday evening. Liam and Zayn led the way through a few stores, Louis leisurely trailing behind. Believe it or not, they were actually shopping. After an hour, they were each holding at least five bags, Louis included.

“Leave it to you guys to get me to spend money I don’t have on clothes I don’t need.”

“Shut up, Lou. You do need them. You wear the same ten t-shirts in rotation. You need some variety.”

Louis shot daggers his way and followed them to the food court. Liam had insisted on buying Louis ice cream to make up for him interrupting Louis’ peaceful Sunday night plans. 

He wanted to go home the moment they stepped foot into the court. The first pair of eyes he spotted were none other than Niall Horan’s. Where there’s a Niall, there’s a Harry. Harry was sitting across from him on his phone. Louis flashed a friendly smile at Niall, who reciprocated it before kicking Harry’s leg under the table. Harry turned and spotted the boys. He waved them over. 

“Why is this happening to me?” Louis grumbled under his breath as he followed Liam and Zayn to their table. They sat down first, leaving Louis to sit between Liam and Harry. Liam definitely did that on purpose, just to torture him.

“Hey,” Harry greeted all of them, but didn't look away from Louis. Louis smiled generously. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Shopping. Zayn and I needed an upgrade,” Liam replied.

“And you?” Harry asked Louis. Louis met his eyes, which were watching him curiously. 

“They dragged me with them,” Louis replied. They sat there studying each other’s faces, a bizarre sort of tightness connecting them.

Niall must have noticed the odd tension they had going on, because he interrupted it.

“So you’re alright after Friday, I see,” he remarked.

“Yeah, kind of lost myself there,” Louis murmured. Harry’s infamous smirk was back. 

“Big party animal, then?” Harry asked, smirk still plastered across his stupid face. 

“Well, I don’t know about that…”

“Of course you do! Remember that time you lost that drinking game and everyone dared you to run down the street stark naked? Almost got the cops called on us!” Zayn exclaimed. Louis flushed immediately at the memory. He made the awful decision to make eye contact with Harry, who stared back for a moment before bursting out laughing. His laugh was so unexpected that it had Louis giggling, too. Harry covered his mouth with his hand in an attempt to muffle his loud laughter, but his eyes were still glowing with mirth and his cheeks were pink. He looked so… happy. If Louis kind of maybe wanted to see Harry laugh a little more often, nobody had to know. 

“And why have I never heard about this?” Niall asked from the other side of the table.

“It was in a different town. Nobody knew him there, so he probably figured he had nothing to be embarrassed about. It was also, what, freshman year? Hasn’t been much of a partier since. I still have the video in my camera roll somewhere,” Liam explained. 

Louis gave him the hardest death glare he could muster up. Niall began to demand to see the video and that was when Louis decided to cut their already agonizing time short. He stood up abruptly, reminding Liam about his promise of ice cream before turning on his heels and walking toward the ice cream shop. He could hear Liam and Zayn saying their goodbyes behind him, their voices still full of hilarity, but he made no move to stop walking. 

***

Louis rarely smoked weed alone. He always found the idea of it rather pitiful. Even still, he sat hunched over at his bedroom window, smoking and sulking.

He didn’t have much of a reason to be doing either, if he was being entirely honest. He’d woken up in the middle of the night after having a bad dream, and he couldn’t fall back asleep.

God help him if his brain decided to start thinking about Harry.

It was not his fault. He definitely didn’t start thinking about him by choice. He would never. But he was thinking about his project and how there was no way he would be able to do a good job on it and then he was thinking about how it had to do with Harry and soon enough the project had nothing to do with his train of thought. 

Maybe he wasn’t sulking. Maybe he was just angry. Angry that he couldn’t figure out what it was about Harry that his body felt so strongly towards. It had always been that way, whenever he even so much as looked at Harry. Before he ever talked to Harry, it was just some sort of inner voice telling him that Harry was different. _Different how?_ He’d always ask, but to no avail. 

Now, though, after he’d talked to Harry a few times, he just felt warm every time they came into contact with each other. Not like some soulmate bullshit or anything… just… warm. If that even made any sense.

Perhaps that was what he hated so much. Not Harry himself, but the way he subconsciously felt weird about him since the very beginning. Not even a bad weird - just some weird feeling. It wasn’t a crush. Louis knew what having a crush on someone felt like. 

Just weird. It’s the only word he could come up with. And he was angry about it, so he was smoking weed alone in the middle of the night. 

His laptop was sitting closed on his bedside table, a constant reminder of his project and the addition he’d added just before he lit his blunt.


	4. Chapter 4

Louis never went back to sleep after he’d woken up in the middle of the night. He tossed and turned for a while before giving up and watching Netflix until his alarm went off. 

Of course, now that he hadn’t slept all night, his lack thereof caught up to him halfway through first period. His eyelids felt much heavier than they did when he drove to school, and his head was slowly but surely giving into gravity. Liam had to nudge him in the ribs twice.

He was dragging his feet obnoxiously as he trudged through the hallways, earning plenty of dirty looks from other students. He never cared about what they thought of him before, though, so why start now?

He had the decency to reciprocate Niall’s enthusiastic wave as they passed each other in the hallway, which left Louis equally confused and displeased. Since when has Louis been on ‘greeting each other in the hallway’ terms with Niall Horan? He was supposed to hate Niall Horan. But he was just a kindhearted, spectacular human being... who could ever _not_ say ‘hi’ to Niall Horan in the hallway?

By the time Louis stumbled into last period, he was positive that he was deteriorating from the inside out. He sighed as he plopped down into his seat next to Harry.

“Alright?” Harry asked, expression dripping with amusement.

“Peachy, Harold.”

Harry snorted and took out their assignment. They waited for Stan to come in, who was usually about two minutes late. It was loud around Harry and Louis, everyone talking to their partners and friends. Louis let out the occasional grumble, but that was about it when it came to conversing with Harry. 

Stan walked in with all the nonchalance in the world, dropping his bag onto his spinning chair behind his desk and hoisting himself onto an empty desk in the front row. 

“Now I know that you’ve all been thinking constantly about your assignment, so I’m getting straight to the chase. No need to wait any longer.” Even Stan himself seemed bored with the work. “I want you guys to consider your partner. Your opinion on them, how you think they go about their day, et cetera, et cetera. Read over your chosen poem and annotations, and come up with something about your partner that relates to it. For example, if you chose one of the poems about feeling sad at night, maybe your partner is sad, or was in a bad mood when you guys chose the poem.”

Louis and Harry traded glances, Harry sporting a smirk and Louis sporting a glare.

“You have until Wednesday to complete it. All I want is a paragraph, nothing fancy. Just be creative. I don’t like homework, so you guys can work on it in class. Whatever you don’t finish, you can do Tuesday night.” Stan clapped his hands once to let everyone know that he was done talking, and he rounded his desk to set up his laptop.

“I have no idea what I was expecting for this class, but being a therapist was definitely not on my agenda,” Louis mumbled. He didn’t mean for Harry to hear it, but Harry giggled--yes, _giggled_ \--so he must have heard. “Alright, Styles, so what’s with the poem? Why’d you choose it?”

“Oh, fuck off. We’re not doing this the easy way. You have to _guess!_ ” Harry stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. It was the farthest thing from cute, honestly. 

“Come _on_ Harry, the poem is super short as it is. I didn’t even get to see your annotations for longer than, like, three seconds on Friday,” Louis argued, refusing to give into Harry’s outrageous puppy-dog eyes. 

“So here,” Harry reasoned, handing Louis his paper, filled up with notes.

“How did you come up with so much from that little sentence?” Harry shrugged, already labeling his notebook paper. Louis did not envy him for being so studious. In fact, he wanted to strangle him because of it. It was quite frustrating. 

Louis read over Harry’s notes and annotations. He eyed Harry suspiciously until Harry looked up at him, furrowing his eyebrows.

“You’re actually kind of not stupid,” Louis complimented. Harry snorted again.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he replied sarcastically.

“Of course.”

Louis only gets two sentences down by the time the bell rings. He’d spent almost the entire period just thinking. About _Harry,_ of all things to be thinking about. Harry had been occupying too much of his mind recently. That needed to change. 

***

Even though Stan kept Harry and Louis seated next to each other in class, they barely ever talked. October had blown by in a blur of Friday night diner hangouts, occasional football games, and paying the least amount of attention to Harry Styles as possible. 

Louis was doing a fine job of keeping Harry out of his head. As for his project, it was the last thing on his mind. Until mid-November. Mid-November kind of screwed everything up.

There was a week remaining before Thanksgiving break, and it was pouring outside. Torrential. Louis was already dreading the sprint he’d have to make out to his car in the senior parking lot as he stared out the window in his last period class. 

The bell rang, and Harry was off with his usual, “see ya.” Niall followed him out of class like a lost dog, also as per usual. Louis stood by the back door of the school for a few moments, preparing himself to make a run for it. 

He sprinted through the rain, splashing puddles halfway up his skinny jeans. By the time he got to his car, it looked as though he’d showered with his clothes on. He put the key in the ignition and tried to start his car and- and…

His car wasn’t starting. And it was pouring outside. Torrential. 

“Mother fucker!” He slapped the steering wheel in frustration. He tried again. And again. No luck. He took out his phone and called his mother.

“Honey?”

“My car’s not starting.”

“Oh no… I’m at work right now. Do you have any other way to get home? I can call insurance, but it’ll probably be a long time 'til they get there.”

Louis sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. Liam decided not to show up to school, as he needed a 'mental health day.' Liam. A mental health day. Of course he decided to care about his mental health on this particular day. 

“I’ll have to walk,” Louis concluded. He said his goodbyes with Jay, her promising to call insurance the moment they hung up. 

He looked over at his backpack sitting on the passenger seat. He’d have to leave it. The rain would ruin everything inside if he brought it with him. 

He huffed one more time before taking his keys and getting out of the car. He was going to get a cold, for sure. It wasn’t necessarily chilly; pretty warm, actually, considering the time of the year. But he was going to get a cold. He could already feel it in his bones. 

He walked through puddles in his vans, soaked down to his toes, which was the single most uncomfortable thing ever. He could literally hear his feet squelching inside of his shoes with every step he took. 

He couldn’t see very far ahead of him. The rain was coming down like a fucking shower. He was almost halfway home when he heard a car pulling up behind him. It slowed to a stop beside him, and the next thing Louis knew, Harry was rolling his window down and calling out to him.

“Need a ride?” He called out over the rain. Louis considered it for a moment. He really, _really_ did not want to spend time with Harry, but his ass was cold and Harry’s fancy heated seats were screaming his name.

Louis nodded and got in.

“What the fuck are you walking in the rain for?” Harry asked as Louis buckled up. 

“My car wouldn’t start.” Louis fiddled with the buttons for the seats before Harry slapped his hand away and turned on his seat for him. “Thanks.”

“Where’s Liam?”

“He didn’t go to school today.”

Harry hummed in reply, pulling away from the curb and toward Louis’ house.

“And your mom?”

“Work.” He hummed again. Louis' teeth chattered faintly.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Louis could feel the tension again. This one was new, actually. Different. Most definitely not sexual, because ew. But… a weird tension that had never been there before.

Harry must have felt it, too.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Harry asked. Louis whipped his head to look over at Harry, who was focused on the road in front of him.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, Louis. I know you hate me. Me and Niall, and a lot of the other boys, too. I just want to know why. Did I do something?” There was no annoyance or sharpness in his voice. Just… innocence. Vulnerability, maybe? No. Louis sat there, stumped.

Why did he hate Harry? He’d been asking himself the same question since freshman year. 

“I really don’t know,” Louis replied honestly.

Harry glanced over at him. And it was weird. Like a switch went off inside of Louis. He really didn’t _hate_ Harry. He had no reason to. 

“I don’t know,” Louis repeated, breathed, really, as Harry pulled up in front of his house.

Harry looked at him now, longer than before. Louis studied his face. 

His eyes were a bright emerald green that stood out against his dark eyelashes, which curled up around them perfectly. His brown curls were falling slightly over his forehead in the absence of his standard headscarf. His cheekbones were soft, still a bit round with youth, but structured his face just right. His jawline was sharp. His lips were the color of pale roses, only a tiny bit chapped from the cold. Why had Louis never noticed his lips?

“Well, I can’t help you if you don’t know,” Harry said, bringing Louis out of his daze. Louis met his eyes, realizing that he had lingered on his mouth for a second too long. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis found himself saying. “I don’t think I hate you.”

What the _fuck_ was he saying?

“You don’t think you hate me?”

Louis shook his head. 

“So then why do you act like you do?” _Good question._

“I really don’t know…” Louis replied again. He was blushing. He could feel himself blushing, face burning up. He was just embarrassed. Why did he let himself be embarrassed by Harry Styles? Better question: what the fuck was happening?

“I don’t know, either.” Harry knew Louis was blushing. He had that glint in his eyes, a smirk hidden just under the surface of his calm expression. That one that Louis maybe hated. 

“I’ll try not to act like I hate you as much,” Louis said after a long beat of silence. Harry smiled. A full-toothed smile. Louis got flashbacks to that time in the diner, when Harry had smiled at him for the first time ever. Was Louis’ heart rate always this fast?

“Okay,” Harry said through his big toothy grin. 

“Thank you for driving me,” Louis murmured, getting out of the car. He heard Harry’s ‘you’re welcome’ before he shut the door and hurried up to his front door. Only when he heard Harry drive away did he realize he was smiling. When did he start smiling? Was he doing that the whole time? Or just when Harry smiled? Had to be then.

He unlocked the door and bolted up to his bathroom, stripping out of his soaked clothes on the way. He jumped into the shower and stood in the warm spray for ten minutes before actually washing himself.

After showering, he just laid in bed. Of course, _of fucking course,_ Harry managed to wiggle himself back into Louis’ brain. 

Harry, who actually confronted Louis about Louis’ unwarranted hatred towards him… as if it _bothered_ him. Why would he even care if Louis hated him? Maybe he just needed everyone to like him. Like some kind of self-constructed desire for approval. Had to be that.

He snatched his laptop from his bedside table and typed, his fingers hitting the keyboard much harder than need be.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry seemed to be everywhere after he and Louis’ discussion. At the grocery store, in the school bathroom, even at Burger Girl. Somehow, Louis found himself not loathing his existence. 

“Are you coming to the game tonight? It’s the last one of the season, you know,” Harry asked when he sat down in his seat next to Louis in their ‘creative’ class, which Stan now referred to it as. 

And… oh. It was the last game of the season. Louis had been distracted recently, trying to figure out what Liam and Zayn were planning for his birthday in a few days, that he barely even noticed it was the last day of school before winter break. More specifically, the last Friday, meaning that it was, in fact, the last football game of the school year. 

“Oh, I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask Liam,” Louis replied after a short pause. 

“You better be there. I expect to see you cheering me on from your signature spot at the top of the bleachers,” Harry joked. 

Louis gave a small chuckle in response, not bothering to question how the hell Harry knew they sat up there. Surely he couldn’t see them all the way up there from the middle of the field, right? Or maybe Louis was just overthinking. Niall was friends with Liam and Zayn. Right. That’s how Harry knew. 

Harry and Louis cracked a few jokes throughout class, which had become a common occurrence somehow ever since the November incident, and the end of the day approached quickly. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” Harry affirmed with a wink as he made to leave class. Louis didn’t even get to reply before Harry was out the door. 

***

“What do you mean you ‘can’t go’? What are you doing instead?” Louis asked Liam exasperatedly over the phone.

“I mean I can’t go, Lou. I have to go to my uncle’s house tonight. Ask Zayn, I’m sure he’s going,” Liam explained. Louis sighed loudly.

“But it’d be weird with just me and Zayn. You’re always with us!”

“Well then suck it up, buttercup. Why do you want to go so bad, anyway?”

Louis stilled his fidgeting fingers for a second. He really didn’t have a good reason that didn’t have anything to do with a certain pesky football player. But if he told Liam that he was going because Harry told him to, then Liam would take it the wrong way.

“Just want to. It’s the last game, Li. Can’t you reschedule family time? It’s, like, the most important game of the year,” Louis finally answered.

“No can do. Also, the most important game is-”

“Whatever, Lima Bean. I’ll ask Zayn, then, since you’re a party-pooper. Have fun at your uncle’s,” Louis interrupted.

“Whatever, asshole. Don’t drool too hard over the football boys.”

Louis gagged before hanging up. He sent a text to Zayn, who replied saying he could pick Louis up. 

He laid in bed staring at the ceiling for a few more minutes until he got up to take a shower. He stood under the hot water long enough for his fingertips to turn pruny before getting out and running downstairs for dinner.

“Well, hello, Louis. Nice of you to crawl out of your pigsty of a room for once,” Lottie greeted as he entered the kitchen. 

“Shut up, Lots. I’m a very busy man. Loads of work to do. I require an immense amount of beauty sleep. How do you think I keep my good looks under all the stress of schoolwork?” 

Lottie gave him a death glare, only to be interrupted by Jay barging in through the front door carrying four wine bottles. She looked up at Louis and Lottie, who were both glued to their places with their eyebrows raised comically high. 

“I needed to stock up. My last bottle seemed to disappear,” Jay clarified. Louis pointedly stared at Lottie when Jay had her back turned, and suddenly she found the ceiling very interesting. 

When they finally sat down to eat dinner, it was thirty minutes prior to the time Zayn had agreed to pick Louis up. 

“I’m going to the game tonight with Zayn,” Louis voiced through a mouthful of pasta.

“What about Liam?” Jay asked. 

“He’s ditching us for his uncle. Said he needs help moving furniture.” Louis rolled his eyes.

Jay hummed her acknowledgment while Louis shoveled down the remainder of his pasta. 

“Thanks for dinner. I need to get ready,” Louis murmured, setting his plate in the sink and hurrying up to his room.

“He’s like a teenage girl,” he heard Lottie utter to Jay.

“I heard that!” He yelled back. Jay and Lottie laughed in return. 

As Louis sort of suspected, Zayn was nearly fifteen minutes late. He pulled on his vans before sprinting down the stairs, slowing his pace when he noticed Lottie staring at him.

“You got a crush on him or something?” She asked with a smirk.

“Ew, Lottie! No! He’s just late and I want our rightful seats!” He flung the front door open and closed it behind him before she could tease him any further. 

He hopped into the passenger seat of Zayn’s car and Zayn sped off the second Louis shut the door. 

“And where were you?” Louis interrogated, the wicked amusement obvious in his voice as he eyed the dark red bruise on Zayn’s neck.

“Nowhere,” Zayn murmured lamely.

“You, my friend, are an awful liar.”

They arrived at the school later than they usually did, which meant they were already halfway through the second quarter. Louis followed Zayn up the bleachers to their spot, ignoring the stares they were getting from students in the pit. People probably suspected that they were the stoners of their year, but Louis couldn’t care less. 

He spotted Niall and Harry conversing on the sidelines. The only reason they could possibly have been benched would be to give the other players a chance. Harry and Niall were the best on the team, no doubt about it. According to the people that paid attention, that was.

Zayn offered Louis a spliff, but he denied it. Zayn audibly gasped.

“Are you alright? Sick? Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

“Nah, just not in the mood. Wanna watch this one sober.”

“Whatever you say, man.”

It turned out that Louis was wrong about Harry being unable to see him from the field, because right then, Harry looked up at Louis and smiled. He may have thrown in a wink, as well, but Louis couldn’t tell. 

“And now you’re blushing at something. What is your deal? Who do you have your eyes on?” Zayn followed Louis' line of sight to pinpoint who he was looking at. “Not Horan, right? That’d be pretty awkward.”

Louis broke away from his stare to look at Zayn.

“No, not Niall. Why would that be awkward, anyway?”

Zayn gawked at Louis as if he had ten heads.

“Guess you’ll just have to find out, huh?”

Louis had no idea what that meant. He looked ahead again to catch Harry and Niall walking back onto the field. Harry was pulling his helmet over his head, a little sliver of pale skin poking out from under his jersey as he lifted his arms. 

The cheerleaders were doing one of their routines, encouraging the crowd to cheer along as the boys got ready for the play. 

Louis was most definitely not staring as Harry got into position. 

The whistle went off and Harry darted forward, freeing himself from a cluster of opponents. He twisted his torso as he continued running, catching the ball that was thrown to him. He weaved seamlessly through players as he advanced across the field. He barely skirted a tackle by one of the opposing players, and he flew into the end zone, earning the team six more points right before halftime. 

Louis was so concentrated on Harry’s play that he was barely aware of the uproar going on in the stands. The touchdown mixed with the fact that it was Harry Styles had the crowd bursting at the seams. Even Zayn was vaguely amused by the chaotic state of their classmates. 

The things they chanted throughout halftime were utterly ridiculous, so much so that Louis couldn’t stop himself from cackling at a few of them. 

Most of the chants were Harry-centric, which caused the boy to turn and face the crowd, thrusting his fist in the air along with them, all the while wearing a face-splitting grin. Louis knew he was imagining the way Harry kept glancing up at him, but his face was warm anyway. 

After halftime, the players were even more rowdy, the nerves and determination clear on both teams. They were close; 23-21, their school in the lead. Penalties called left and right, players being benched on both teams. Louis swore he could see the fire spouting from Harry’s ears when he got tackled right before he could make a field goal. 

Louis couldn’t help the relief he felt when their school won 28-25. After all the buildup, it was like a breath of fresh air to see the team celebrating on the field. Zayn and Louis waited until some of the pit calmed and cleared out before beginning their trek back to Zayn’s car. They made useless smalltalk on the way. Louis startled when he heard a voice to his left, close to his ear.

“So you did come, huh?” Harry was walking directly behind him. Louis held in his sex joke. He wasn't sure if Harry was one of those straight boys that felt uncomfortable with blowjob jokes coming from other guys, and he didn't really feel like finding out. 

“No, I didn’t. I’m a hologram, actually.”

“Hey, Styles! Good fucking game, holy shit!” Zayn cut in. Harry’s smile could have lit the sun.

“Thanks, man!” Harry greeted Zayn with one of those bro-hugs that Louis hated with a passion. He rolled his eyes, but Harry caught him.

“What's’a matter, sweetcheeks? Not a football fan? Or just not a Harry fan?” He asked, his grin morphing into a smirk. 

“All of the above,” Louis replied dryly as they walked through the gates of the senior parking lot. There were students everywhere, horns honking and music blasting out of car speakers from every direction. It was only a little bit more chaotic than usual, with it being the last game. 

“Well, boys, there’s a party at mine tonight, and I want both of you there. Sound good?” Harry declared when they neared Zayn’s car. 

Before Louis could deny Harry the pleasure, Zayn was nodding in confirmation. He held in his eye roll this time.

They both turned to get in Zayn’s car before Harry grabbed Louis by the shoulder rather roughly.

“See you there,” he whispered into Louis’ ear -- possibly a little _too_ friendly -- before spinning on his heels and walking over to his own car. Louis stood there gaping at his retreating figure for a moment before Zayn's voice calling him from inside the car snapped him out of it. 

He knew it was going to be a long night when Zayn turned their pregame playlist on for the ride to Harry’s house. 

***

After stopping at the liquor store to both stall and pick up Zayn’s favorite vodka, they arrived at the Styles’ residence when the party was in full force. The overall atmosphere was that of a coming-of-age film. Red solo cups littering every nearby surface, sweaty high schoolers crowding the living room, music so loud that partygoers have to shout for the person next to them to be able to hear what they're saying. 

Crazy parties were never really Louis’ scene. He wore himself out after all those wild freshman parties, back when he was obsessed with how new everything was and how free he felt. But they were still Zayn’s thing, and Louis wasn’t going to ruin the fun when Zayn pulled him into Harry Styles’ monster of a house, bustling with drunk high school students. 

Zayn ended up tugging Louis into the kitchen to get drinks a moment later. He poured multiple shots for them while Louis observed his surroundings. There was a couple having a full-on makeout session against the fridge, as well as a group of girls laughing in the corner. They were freshman, and it was clearly their first party, Louis could tell.

They downed three shots each before Louis made himself a vodka cranberry with probably too much vodka. He then followed Zayn back out into the living room. They danced and socialized for nearly an hour, taking multiple trips to the kitchen for more alcohol. 

Louis was bordering on wasted by the time he bumped into Harry. As in physically bumped into Harry. Harry, however, was well past wasted. He would most likely not remember he even threw a party when he woke up the next morning. 

“My bad, man,” Louis shouted over the music. Harry was giggling like a lunatic for some reason, and Louis had a hard time stopping himself from laughing at him. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know!” Harry exclaimed, thoroughly laughing his ass off. 

“Harry Styles, you are obliterated,” Louis stated. Harry was leaning toward Louis, so much so that Louis had to hold him up by his left shoulder to keep him from knocking them both to the floor. 

“Maaaaybe…” Harry bit his lip when Louis looked up at his face, and- they definitely weren’t this close a second ago.

Louis held Harry by both shoulders, helping him stand up straight. He clapped his shoulders and let go, assuming that Harry would be able to stand on his own. It turned out that it had been a very poor judgement, because Harry immediately leaned forward again, almost collapsing on top of Louis. Louis didn’t have time to grab him by the shoulders, so he found himself wrapping his arms around Harry’s half-limp body.

“Harry, how much did you drink?” Louis questioned seriously in Harry’s ear. Harry undoubtedly only shivered because he was drunk.

He felt Harry shrug, which obviously meant “too much.” Louis began tugging him toward the staircase he'd spotted when he entered the house. Halfway there, Harry turned around in Louis’ arms, pressing his back to Louis’ front and wrapping one of his own arms around Louis’ shoulders. Louis was lugging almost all of Harry’s weight at that point. 

When they got to the stairs, Louis asked Harry if he could make it up to his room by himself. Harry pouted.

“Piggy-back ride,” Harry suggested through his frown. He rubbed his eye with his fist and then held his arms out toward Louis like a child. 

Louis scoffed before spinning around and holding his arms out behind him. Harry hopped onto Louis’ back, and Louis suddenly remembered that he, too, had consumed an absurd amount of alcohol. He wobbled for a brief moment before catching himself on the stair railing. He felt Harry rest his head atop his own.

“Hold on tight, idiot.” He hauled Harry up the stairs, taking twice as long as he would’ve if he were sober. “Where is your room?”

Harry pointed to a closed door at the end of the hall. Louis carried him over and let him turn the handle himself since Louis’ hands were occupied. Harry flipped on a light switch next to the door, illuminating the room in bright yellow light that both boys groaned at. Louis kicked the door closed behind them and carried Harry over to his bed. He turned and backed up against it until his knees hit the edge.

“Hop off,” Louis said, shrugging to get Harry’s attention. Harry still had his head laying on top of Louis’, his cheek pressed against his hair. 

“Hm?” Harry hummed, as if he’d fallen asleep during the short walk from the door to the bed. 

“Off,” Louis repeated, lifting Harry’s legs. Harry reluctantly let go of his hold around Louis’ neck and Louis released his grip. He fell flat on the bed, long legs hanging off from the knees down. Louis sighed before tugging Harry up the bed until his head was on the pillow. He grasped onto Harry's shoes, lugging them off and tossing them onto the floor. “Move over, you oaf. Get under the covers.”

Harry was already half asleep, eyes almost shut but still looking at Louis with a delighted twinkle in them. Louis stopped moving Harry around and rested his hands on his own hips with a huff, scanning the room for a blanket. He spotted one folded up in a basket in the corner and covered Harry’s body.

“Tuck me in,” Harry ordered. Louis gave him a blank stare.

“Now you’re getting ahead of yourself, Styles. Asking way too much of me.” But then Harry was pouting again and his eyes were kind of shiny and Louis was too drunk to think about the fact that maybe Harry was a little bit cute.

Louis tucked the blanket tightly around Harry, who hummed his contentment. 

“You’re so spoiled,” Louis grumbled, mostly to himself. Harry heard though, and he narrowed his eyes at him. They were too close again, but Louis was tired and cold and Harry was throwing off warmth like a space heater and he didn’t back away. 

He couldn’t think of an excuse to convince himself that Harry was _not_ staring at his lips. Because he _was,_ and Louis licked his lips right then like it was some sort of instinct and Harry followed the movement. Louis felt entirely sober the second Harry locked eyes with him. If Harry could hear Louis’ heart beating out of his chest, he didn’t mention it. Louis wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Harry because Harry was cute and nice and cuddly when drunk and he had a pretty smile and curly hair and pink lips. Maybe he was a little endearing. 

But Louis didn’t kiss him. 

Louis cleared his throat and stepped back a few feet, the air between them suddenly cold. Louis _couldn’t_ kiss him. He didn’t even really like Harry, and as far as he knew, Harry was straight. And very drunk. So much so that he would not remember their moment in the morning, no matter what Louis did. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” Louis mumbled, turning and walking back toward the door. 

“Thank you,” Harry blurted when Louis reached for the doorknob. “For… helping me to bed.”

“You’re welcome,” Louis replied. But he had a feeling Harry wasn’t just thankful for Louis’ help. 

Louis left the party with the knowledge that maybe he actually did like Harry Styles, just a little bit. He used to think that the realization would feel like a weight being added to his shoulders, but instead, he felt light as a feather as he sat in the passenger seat of Zayn’s car with his head resting against the window. 

Something shifted, and Louis was too uneasy to consider what it was.

***

He knew he’d have a hangover the second he agreed to do whiskey shots with Niall and Zayn. Louis had no idea how Niall could drink such a ludicrous amount of alcohol and be fine and dandy the next day. Also, _whiskey shots?_ Who even was he?

Of course, it didn’t take long for Louis to replay the entire bedroom moment in his head like a movie. His heart fluttered a bit at the thought of it, but his head pounded and reminded him that he needed pain medication _right now right now right now._

Louis moaned and groaned his way to the medicine cabinet, nearly dumping an entire bottle of Advil all over the kitchen tile. He cupped some sink water in his hands and used it to swallow down two pills. 

He walked back up to his room, flopping down onto his bed. As if on cue, his phone started ringing. 

“Hello?” He answered, not bothering to check the caller ID.

“So Zayn told me you got hammered last night?” Liam probed, a spark of entertainment in his tone.

“Well isn’t he a fucking snitch,” Louis grunted and rolled over too quickly, causing his head to throb in protest. 

“He also told me a slight detail that I need a confirmation on before I totally lose my shit.”

Louis hummed as an answer, already knowing what Liam was about to say. 

“You and Harry?” Louis rolled his eyes. Of course Liam wanted the whole story so he could ask questions afterwards.

“He’s alright, I guess,” Louis replied idly, just to piss him off.

“Alright? Unless you were giving a different Harry Styles a piggy-back ride upstairs during a party, it seems like you may think he’s a tad bit better than ‘alright.’”

“So whatever, Harry’s not a total moron. Big whoop.”

“Louis, you’ve hated Harry’s guts since the moment you laid eyes on him. Obviously something changed that made you have sex with him completely out of the blue!”

“Woah, woah, woah, who told you that? I did not fuck him. I helped him up to his bed and then left, that’s it. Harry’s straight,” Louis explained.

He heard Liam make a weird noise, then muffled coughing came through from the other line. 

“Y’alright?”

“Louis, are you blind? Like actually,” Liam was talking to him like he was crazy.

“No, why?”

“Lou, Harry is gay!”

Louis’ stomach swooped so hard he almost threw up. _What?_

“But… what?”

“Don’t you remember that kid Alex he dated at, like, the end of freshman year? And then Tony? Sophomore year?”

“They were _dating?"_ Louis asked incredulously. 

“So you mean to tell me you never saw him and Tony making out against the lockers every morning?”

Louis’ brain was moving at a mile a minute.

“He got a ton of shit for it when he came out, and I never brought it up because I figured you already knew. The whole team called him Princess Harry. Everything calmed down after about a month. You really didn’t know?”

He fish-mouthed a few times before snapping it shut. 

“I thought he’s had girlfriends?” Louis finally choked out after a long moment of processing his thoughts.

“The last and only girlfriend that boy has ever had was in sixth grade. After that, everyone just assumed he’d dated girls all the time when in reality they were just good friends.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Niall. Those two talk about each other like they’re literal brothers.”

Louis hummed. This was… new. How did everyone know but him? Probably because he’d been blocking out all information he’d heard having to do with Harry Styles up until senior year. 

Liam said his goodbyes and hung up, leaving Louis to lay in bed and think. Which… was usually not a great idea. He was overthinking everything. 

Harry was drunk the night before. Definitely wouldn’t remember Louis bringing him to bed. Nor would he remember being centimeters away from kissing Louis, or Louis’ heart threatening to explode out of his chest. He couldn’t. Him being into boys did not change anything. 

He’d always been a charmer. A natural flirt. Everyone always loved him because he was able to make anyone he was talking to feel like they were the most important person in the world. It was a gift, really. Louis was no different than any other person graced with the presence of Harry Styles. So if the butterflies in his stomach and rapid heartbeat could slow down, that’d be nice, thank you very much. 

Louis needed food, but he didn’t want another interrogation, so he texted Zayn to bring him breakfast so they could eat it in Louis’ room. Lazy Saturday it was.

***

He already knew that Harry would not remember their bedroom moment on Friday, so why Louis was a little bit disappointed when nothing changed when they went back to school after break, he didn’t know. 

Liam and Zayn’s surprise for Louis’ birthday -- which had been a bunch of clothes and five (ironic) tickets to an Arctic Monkeys concert at the beginning of February -- and Christmas had only kept him occupied for so long, and being back in school was not as good of a distraction as it should’ve been.

He wasn’t exactly sure what it was he wanted. Maybe he just wanted Harry to flirt with him or something. Call him sweetcheeks a few more times. Throw a ‘princess’ in there somewhere, maybe. 

Who was he kidding, Harry would never do that. Harry would most likely never develop any sort of anything for Louis because of their past. Louis fucked that one up big time.

“Lou, did you finish yet?” Harry asked, pulling Louis out of his reverie. Harry and these double entendres were going to be the death of Louis Tomlinson.

“Um… what questions was I supposed to answer?” Louis asked sheepishly, softly. His face was on fire. Harry had to take notice, because his features softened slightly. Louis could tell he was gearing up to ring out Louis’ self esteem but backtracked when he realized Louis wasn’t just being a shit.

“Just seven and eight, love.”

Never mind. _That_ was going to be the death of Louis Tomlinson. _Love._ He called him _love._

Louis’ face was definitely the color of the cherry red running shoes Niall was sporting that day, but Harry didn’t comment on it. There was also _no_ way that Harry was blushing, as well. It was probably just the temperature in the classroom that was making his cheeks flush pink. The school did pay good money for their heating and air conditioning, after all.


	6. Chapter 6

Carpooling together for one hour and forty five minutes should not have been as large of a catastrophe for five boys as it had been for Louis, Liam, Zayn, Niall and Harry. 

The venue that the Arctic Monkeys were playing at was in Indianapolis, and Liam had insisted that all of them went together. 

“Alright, you’re driving then,” Louis had concluded. So Liam was driving and Louis was shotgun, leaving Zayn to squeeze into the backseat with Harry and Niall. He’d only mildly protested, much to Louis’ dismay. 

They had Arctic Monkeys on shuffle through Liam’s aux cord, and all of them finally got comfortable about forty minutes into the ride. “Old Yellow Bricks” was humming through the speakers and Louis watched out the window, observing other drivers that they passed. A lot of people must have felt inclined to hang out with their pets that day, because he counted at least seven dogs by the time they pulled into the venue parking lot. 

The boys hopped out of Liam’s car and stretched. 

“My foot is asleep,” Harry complained. Louis was standing next to him, so he took it into his hands to stomp on it. Harry sobbed forcefully. 

“Did that help?” Louis teased. Harry gave him a dirty look and marched along with the group. 

Liam and Zayn had purchased aisle seats fairly far from the stage, but Louis didn’t mind. He didn’t necessarily need to be close up to get the full experience. 

Louis ended up sitting between Zayn and Harry, which was done on purpose by Liam, who darted into the aisle and stuck his tongue out at him. When Harry noticed the arrangement, he hadn’t looked too pleased either. He was still brooding about Louis stepping on his foot, deep crease between his brows and lips downturned. 

When the band came out, the boys quit teasing each other and Harry stopped being a drama queen. They started with “Arabella,” and Zayn was bouncing in his seat. Louis laughed and sat back in his own chair. 

Halfway through the concert they played “Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?,” which was one of Louis’ favorites. He sang almost the entire thing directly to Zayn, who sang back while chuckling. 

The band finished off with “I Wanna Be Yours,” and by then Louis was brimming with energy. He smiled and glanced over at Liam, who was swaying. Louis giggled and swayed along, as well. He looked over at Harry for the first time in a while and found him watching already, a small smile splayed across his lips. Louis smiled back, albeit a little confused, but Harry didn’t notice that. Harry’s cheeks colored and he glanced down at his feet before looking back up at the stage. 

Louis’ heart skipped a beat. 

After the band had thanked the audience for coming and said their final goodbyes, the boys made their way back to the parking lot. There were people everywhere and Niall got lost twice, but they all eventually arrived in one piece. 

Before Louis could, Zayn called shotgun and had his hand on the passenger door handle. Louis groaned, but he was in too good of a mood to be upset about it. 

Harry opened the back door and stared at him, waiting for him to get in. Louis raised his eyebrows. 

“Oh, Curly, I can’t sit in the middle,” Louis lied. “I’ll get air sickness or whatever.”

“We’re not going on a plane ride,” Harry deadpanned. Louis was confused for a moment, but then it clicked. 

“Oh!” He let out a loud cackle. “I meant motion sickness.”

Harry smiled and shook his head. He knew Louis was lying, Louis could tell, but he shuffled into the middle seat anyway. Louis followed and shut the door once he was settled. Liam drove off, and they had to sit in ten minutes worth of traffic before they could get out of the parking lot. 

The Arctic Monkeys playlist had ended on Liam’s phone, and he must have switched it to his sad playlist because multiple songs in a row began with the same slow, resonant piano keys. Every time Louis attended a concert, his emotions were especially fragile afterward. 

The streetlights were bright and the moon was full, which illuminated the inside of the car in faded blue light. He looked over at Harry, who was watching through the front windshield as Liam navigated down the highway. His eyes were reflecting their surroundings, shiny and emerald. His lips were set in a content line and his cheekbones stood high on his side profile. He looked young. 

Feeling Louis staring, he turned his head. Louis could feel that his own lips were parted, so he shut his mouth. The corners of Harry’s lips quirked up innocently, and Louis mirrored his expression. They watched each other watching each other for another few moments before Louis turned to look back out the window. He felt Harry’s knee press against his, and he left them to rest there. 

When they got back to Louisville, Liam dropped the boys off one at a time. He reached Louis’ house first, so Louis thanked him and said his goodbyes to the boys. 

He looked at Harry one last time and gave him a private smile before hopping out of the car. 

***

The rest of the winter breezed by in a flurry of pet names and more Burger Girl hangouts. More often than not, it had been the whole group of them at Burger Girl every Friday night as opposed to just Louis and Liam.

Niall and Harry had somehow wedged themselves into the group after the concert, and Louis was surprisingly alright with it. They seemed to fit in just fine.

In fact, Liam had been the one getting on Louis’ nerves as of late rather than Harry. 

Liam had had a stick up his ass for the past month for more reasons than one. First off, his parents were fighting again. 

His parents went through a stage the year prior where they fought everyday, bringing Liam into it as often as possible. Louis disliked them for that, but Liam had always told him not to worry. This time, though, Louis was worrying. He was annoyed with Liam’s almost constant attitude and grumpiness, but he was worried. 

“Li,” he said over the phone one night. “How are you really? Because you say you’re fine over and over again but I know you’re not. Talk to me, man.”

Liam had groaned for a solid seven seconds straight before letting his walls down. Walls that Louis hadn’t even noticed him building. 

He admitted to being upset. He was angry at his parents for pulling him into their issues and making him feel guilty. Louis had never agreed with him more. 

After that, Louis had made Liam promise to talk to him whenever he was feeling down. Liam’s smile was a tad bit more genuine the day after.

What made Louis grumpy, though, was the fact that Harry was more of a delight than a burden. Well… scratch that. Louis was not grumpy. That was the problem. He was glowing.

Harry laughed at all of Louis’ jokes. Jokes that Zayn and Liam would normally roll their eyes at or ignore entirely. Harry also blushed when Louis called him ‘babycakes,’ so he made sure to do that as often as possible. 

Now, they were sitting around their stationary booth in the corner of Burger Girl, Niall loudly telling a story about his father fixing a car, Zayn sketching in his notebook, and Harry folding his napkin into an origami boat.

Liam was to the right of Louis, the only one paying full attention to Niall’s tale, and Louis… well. Louis was watching Harry fold his napkin into an origami boat. 

When Harry looked up at him, Louis’ stomach swooped. Which was weird. Totally weird. That should not have happened. But he couldn’t look away, and so Harry smiled and went back to folding his napkin this way and that. Louis could see the blush tinging his cheeks, which made Louis blush in return. When he finally tore his gaze off of Harry’s utterly adorable shenanigans, he immediately made eye contact with Zayn, who had seen the tiny exchange. Zayn smiled knowingly before continuing to sketch. 

Louis blushed harder. 

***

After months of being sort-of friends, this was the first time Louis was going to see Harry with the full impression that they were going to be alone the entire time. The thought of it made Louis’ insides twist with nervousness, which he did not want to look into. He and Harry were working on a project. That was all.

Louis almost pissed himself on Harry’s front porch. 

He’d texted Harry about thirty seconds prior that he was there, and he waited by the door for Harry to let him in. He didn’t want to knock in case anyone else was home. He wasn’t quite ready to stumble through an awkward introduction with Harry’s mother or sister yet.

A few moments later, footsteps were bounding down the stairs. Two pairs of footsteps. Louis’ heart was in his throat.

A slim girl with dark hair and milky skin wretched the door open, a flustered and out of breath Harry in tow. 

“You must be Louis!” She beamed, holding her hand out for Louis to shake. He shook it, cursing himself for his sweaty palms. 

“Gemma, I assume?” Louis replied, smiling as though he wasn’t panicking inside.

“That’s me!”

“Gems, let him in. We have stuff to do,” Harry grumbled, shoving Gemma out of the way and gesturing for Louis to follow him back up the stairs. 

“Oh yeah, lots of important stuff, I’m sure.” Louis turned to her just in time to see her wink exaggeratedly at Harry, who was already halfway up the staircase. Louis was blushing furiously by that point, and Harry probably was too, if him looking back at Louis then quickly turning his head had anything to do with it. 

Harry shut his bedroom door quietly behind him and Louis looked around. His room looked exactly the same as it did the night of the party, possibly a little more tidy. He watched as Harry walked across the room and plopped down on his stomach on the bed. He swung his feet up in the air, legs bent at the knees, and turned his head to look at Louis. Louis stood there motionless for a moment too long before clearing his throat and dropping his backpack onto the floor.

“So Stan said that we have to choose our favorite color and what now?” Louis spoke up, voice a little tighter than usual.

“Write a two page essay on how the world would look without it,” Harry finished for him, rolling onto his back and scooting over. He patted the bed next to him as an invitation, and Louis hesitated shortly before obliging. “My favorite color is blue.”

“Mine is red,” Louis countered, narrowing his eyes in challenge. 

“So let’s make purple,” Harry mused. Louis widened his eyes down at him, and Harry noticed, then, what he’d just implied. He slapped a hand over his mouth and went pink, his loud guffaw escaping through his fingers. Louis couldn’t help the goofy smile that took over his face.

“I was going to say ‘sounds like a plan’ but I’m not sure if you’d take it the wrong way,” Louis replied after they calmed down. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Hey, hey, just cause’ I’m bi doesn’t mean I’m dusting the floor, alright?” He joked, and _huh?_

“Wait-” Louis blurted before he could contain himself. He shut his mouth abruptly, not wanting to finish his sentence, but Harry was looking at him expectantly. “I thought you were gay?”

He was worried, at first, that he sounded like a total prick, but Harry didn’t seem phased.

“Well, I prefer guys, but girls are alright sometimes, I guess. Everyone just assumes since I haven’t dated a girl since, like, sixth grade or something,” He shrugged.

Louis nodded, but the sinking feeling in his stomach was weighing him down. He clapped his hands and suggested they got to work. Harry groaned, but still sat up and pulled his supplies together.

***

He didn’t even get all the way back to his house before he had to call Liam. He was still internally drowning.

“Hello?”

“You cunt!” Louis yelled into his speaker.

“Woah, woah, why am I a cunt?” Liam asked. Louis could hear shuffling in the background. Hopefully he hadn’t been near his parents or anything.

“You said Harry was gay!”

“Isn’t he?” His voice wavered a bit, which made Louis even more nervous.

“He’s bi, Liam,” Louis stated, more calmly than he’d been speaking before.

“So? He likes boys, still. Why does it matter?” If Louis was thinking clearly at that moment, he would’ve sensed the mischief in Liam’s voice before continuing. He wasn’t thinking clearly at that moment.

“Because that lowers my already limited chances by 50%, you fuckwit!”

Louis literally slapped himself across the face the second the words were out. The line was quiet for a second before Liam burst out laughing. Louis groaned loudly.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” Liam was cheering, but Louis was knocking his head back against the headrest of his seat.

He hung up to Liam cackling over the line. He drove home going ten miles under the speed limit, taking the longest way possible. To add to his misery, a text from Zayn lit up his phone during his slow stroll to his front door.

_So it was Styles, then?_ Was all it said. Louis didn’t reply. 

***

The first time Louis and Harry hung out for no particular reason, by themselves, was two weeks after their project. 

Harry had texted Louis at two in the afternoon on a Saturday, clearly having just woken up, and Louis played hard to get for all of thirty seconds before agreeing to let Harry pick him up.

“So where are we off to, honeybuns?” Louis asked upon climbing into Harry’s passenger seat. His full intent with the pet name was to pull a blush from Harry, and he got exactly what he wanted.

“I have a lot of errands to do and I don’t want to go alone,” he explained.

Louis nodded.

“And Niall was busy today,” Harry tacked on quickly, sheepishly. One look at him and Louis could tell he was spitting bullshit, but he indulged him anyway by feigning offense. 

“Glad to know I mean nothing to you, Harry Styles,” he gasped, holding his hand over his heart.

Harry laughed, rounding the corner of Louis’ neighborhood. 

“You know that’s not true,” he said, a serious undertone even though he was still chuckling. It made Louis’ heart thump wildly in his chest. 

Louis stayed in the car while Harry brought his paycheck into the bank. He drummed his fingers on the window to the song that was playing on the radio. He didn’t recognize it. It was one of Harry’s favorites, though, because he recognized the beat. Harry hummed it when he wrote in English sometimes. Louis flushed and halted his drumming at the realization that he had noticed this. 

When Harry came back, the song was over and another indie song was playing, the crunchy beginnings of a guitar riff flitting through the car speakers. Louis caught himself staring at Harry’s hand as he put the car into reverse. He could hear his own pulse in his ears when Harry reached over to rest his hand on Louis’ headrest in order to twist around and back out of the parking spot. 

Harry Styles should never have been effecting him like this, but here he was, butterflies flapping uncontrollably in his stomach because he could feel the warmth from Harry’s hand right next to his face. He had to be red as a tomato right then. His prediction was correct, because Harry glanced at him and quickly faced forward again, heat rising on his own cheeks. 

They were blushing like children and Louis was kind of loving every second of it. 

Louis followed Harry through the Walmart entrance. A burst of heat washed over them as they walked in, making Louis’ eyes water at the sudden change in temperature. He slipped the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands, standing there awkwardly as Harry got a cart.

“So I’m helping you with your grocery shopping, I’m assuming?”

“Correct,” Harry affirmed, breezing past Louis with his cart. Louis followed him into the school supplies aisle, rolling his eyes. 

“And what exactly do you need from here?”

“You want to read the list?”

Louis snatched the shopping list from Harry’s hands and began skimming it. He scrunched his nose in distaste at ‘avocados.’

Louis trailed behind Harry as they weaved through the isles, throwing random products into the cart when Harry had his back turned. He was caught once as he was chucking a tennis ball in, which Harry promptly threw at his head. It bounced into the next isle over, and they widened their eyes at each other when they heard a deep voice murmur, “what the fuck?” through the shelves. They erupted into laughter, muffled by their hands as they sped off towards another area of the store. 

Louis had given up on his attempts to sneak the weirdest things he could find into the cart after Harry kept catching him, and now he was in charge of pushing it around. He deliberately kept hitting Harry’s ankles every time he slowed down, possibly just in an attempt to get him to turn around and look at him. 

“Remind me why I brought you with me, again?” Harry asked after the fourth time Louis hit him with the cart. 

“Because Niall was busy today,” Louis mocked, making Harry spin around and keep walking. Louis giggled. “Y’know, I’m not going to make fun of you if you just wanted to hang out with me. I’m pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.”

Harry glared at him over his shoulder, but Louis didn’t miss that all-too-familiar pink tinge in his cheeks. 

“Aw, did I make you blush?” Louis teased. If he had to be the first of the two of them to bring up their ceaseless blushing, then so be it. 

“Stoppp,” Harry drawled as they made their way down the paper towel aisle. Louis stopped in front of the brand Harry had written on the list and reached up to grab it. If his legs were about two inches longer, he’d be able to reach it. He inwardly cursed his height, feeling thoroughly embarrassed to be on his tiptoes, reaching up at the top shelf that was too high up, right in front of tall, endless-legged Harry. Cool. Now he cared what Harry thought about him. _Perfect._

Just then, he felt the warmth of another body press up against his back. An arm snaked over his left shoulder and the hand attached to it flattened out against his right shoulder, holding him against the firm torso that was filling up all of his senses. Harry smelled sweet, like peaches and a bit like vanilla. A faint trace of his cologne was there, too, and just _Harry._ Louis closed his eyes, absorbing every movement. Harry pulled the pack of paper towels off of the shelf and brought them down to Louis’ hands. He nuzzled his nose into Louis’ hair and tightened his hold around Louis’ shoulders, just for a moment. His lips pursed for a split second, just a quick peck to Louis’ hair, and then the warmth was gone. 

Louis blinked his eyes open in time to see Harry starting to stroll away with the shopping cart. Louis would be a little worried if he hadn’t noticed the tips of Harry’s ears and neck still flushed red. He bit his lip to try and settle the giddiness he felt, and followed Harry in silence.


	7. Chapter 7

Spring was approaching at full tilt. Pollen was swirling in the air and the breeze wasn’t as chilly. It was a particularly warm Thursday evening when Liam called Louis in absolute panic mode. 

Louis had been in the middle of heating his T.V. dinner in the microwave, ready to spend the rest of his night curled up on the couch texting Harry, Netflix playing on the television for background noise. 

“Louis I think I’m going to puke,” Liam rushed out, his quick footsteps audible through the phone.

“Woah, chill out, Lima. What’s wrong?” The microwaved sounded and Louis grabbed his dinner, burning his pinky in the process. He winced and ran it under cold water.

“I have a date tonight!”

“With Maya?” Louis asked.

“Yes, who else?”

“Okay…” He drawled. “You’ve been on a billion dates with Maya. Why are you so worked up?”

“Because I’m supposed to babysit Mrs. Sander’s kids tonight and I totally forgot!”

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. This meant only one thing: Louis was babysitting Mrs. Sander’s kids on this beautiful Thursday evening instead of curling up on the couch. 

“You’re lucky I love you, Liam.”

***

“Where is it we’re going, exactly?” Harry’s sleepy voice questioned from the passenger seat. He was allegedly in the middle of his routine weekday nap when Louis called him from his driveway, telling him to wear something comfy and come outside because they were hanging out. 

“Liam has a date with his new girlfriend and forgot he had to babysit tonight, so we’re babysitting for him,” Louis explained. He glanced over at Harry to see him beaming, grin so wide it probably hurt.

“You could have gotten me out of the house ten minutes quicker if you would’ve told me we’re hanging out with _babies,_ Louis!” He exclaimed. Louis giggled.

“Well, they’re not necessarily babies, the youngest is five. But they’re children.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re hanging out with children and I’m happy about it. I take back what I said about you waking me up from my nap.”

“You mean when you called me a ‘stupid fucking cu-’”

“Shh! You can’t be speaking like that when children are around!” Harry interrupted.

Louis rolled his eyes as he pulled into the Sander’s driveway. Potted plants decorated the pathway to their front door, which had a fancy ‘S’ anchored to it. White brick lined the entirety of the house, black wood door and shudders making it look modern and tasteful. 

Harry was practically bouncing his way up to the door behind Louis, who found himself trying to contain his smile by sinking his teeth into his lower lip. Louis rang the doorbell, hyper aware of how close Harry was standing next to him. He heard laughter from inside and looked over at Harry, who looked back at him in complete delight. 

_Oh my god I like him a lot oh my god oh my god._

The door opened suddenly, yanking Louis out of his trance. He focused on the woman standing in the doorway, who was in the middle of putting an earring in her ear. She smiled confusedly.

“Hello, Louis, darling. I thought Liam was coming tonight?” Mrs. Sander questioned, glancing between Harry and Louis.

“He was supposed to, but something came up last minute and he called me to take over. Is it alright that I brought a friend?” Louis replied, gesturing to Harry. 

“Of course, honey. Who’s this?” She asked, holding her hand out to shake.

“I’m Harry, nice to meet you.” Louis watched on fondly as Harry tried to restrain his excitement.

“I promise he’s not on drugs, he just really likes kids,” Louis reassured, even though Mrs. Sander seemed perfectly content with Harry’s presence. 

“No worries at all.”

Mr. Sander appeared at the doorway holding her purse and sweater, politely explaining to the boys that they were going to be late if they didn’t leave right then. Once the door was locked behind them, Harry followed Louis into the living room to meet the kids.

Upon their entrance, Emily, the youngest, jumped up and ran over to Louis, wrapping her short arms around his hips. 

“Louis!” The other two shouted, following Emily’s lead. Once they had all properly said hello, Louis began introducing them to Harry.

“Emily, Justin, Luna, this is Harry. He’s going to be hanging out with us tonight,” Louis explained carefully, unsure of how they would react to a new presence. They hadn’t taken to Louis all that well at first.

Harry smiled his biggest, friendliest smile, and the moment Louis looked back down that the children, he knew they were hooked. 

He bent down and they engulfed him in a group hug, Justin, the middle child, and Luna, the oldest, letting go first and leaving Emily to cling to Harry. She pulled away, only to hold his face in her small, pale hands and study him.

“You’re pretty,” she stated. She looked up at Louis, back to Harry, then back up at Louis again. “Isn’t he pretty, Lou?”

Louis flushed immediately. He looked at Harry, who broke out into an even wider grin, if possible, but it had a bit of a smugness to it that wasn’t there previously. 

“Yeah, Em, he’s very pretty,” Louis agreed, his voice dripping with accidental fondness. He would’ve been embarrassed if Harry didn’t blush and look down at his own feet.

Louis looked over at Luna, who was eying them in amusement. For thirteen, she was extremely intelligent. She could probably recognize Louis’ crush the second she saw them.

Crush. Jesus fuck.

Emily let go of Harry and he stood to his full height, towering over all of them, including Louis. Louis watched him for a brief moment, the glee glimmering in his eyes, the stray curls poking out from underneath his headscarf, the happy tilt to his lips. He smiled before turning back to the kids.

“Alright, did you guys eat dinner yet?”

***

Even though Louis had insisted they ordered pizza, Harry was not going to budge. ‘Kids need to eat healthy dinners, Lewis,’ Harry had said. Louis gave in when Harry began searching the cabinets for ingredients. 

Now, he was perched up on the arm of the leather sofa with the kids while Harry cooked in the kitchen. He could smell the chicken that was in the oven and it made his stomach grumble. He’d put his T.V. dinner in the fridge at home in favor of ordering pizza with the Sander’s money. _So much for that._ Harry had better hope that he was the best chef in all of Kentucky, or else Louis was never bringing him around the kids again. 

Plankton was in the middle of sneaking into the Krusty Krab when Harry called out that dinner was ready. Emily bolted out of the living room and into the kitchen, followed by a loud squeal. Either she was incredibly impressed by Harry’s cooking skills, or Harry had picked her up. There were no other possibilities.

It turned out to be the latter. Louis walked in with Luna and Jacob in tow to see Emily almost upside down in Harry’s arms, legs flailing in the air and a giant grin on her face. 

“You’re torturing my children,” Louis observed. Harry smirked before setting Emily back down on the ground. “What’d you make, Chef Styles?”

“Chicken and rice,” he announced proudly, puffing his chest out and resting his hands on his hips dramatically. His pinky nail had a smudge of black nail polish on it. It made Louis’ insides feel cozy.

Louis hummed noncommittally, feigning disinterest as he ambled over to the stove. An empty pot and tray were sitting on top of it. He spun around to face Harry again, who was still standing there dripping with pride, for some reason. 

“Bold of you to assume I’d call you all out here just to have you serve yourselves. What kind of housewife do you think I am?” Louis’ stomach most definitely did not flip-flop.

He followed Harry into the dining room, where Jacob was already scooping a mountain of white rice into his bowl. Louis took in the simple display. Harry had managed to find a fancy plate to put the chicken on. 

“So, since you’re such an excellent housewife, you plan on doing the dishes while I stand by, right?” Louis asked after monitoring the table, looking over at Harry and fluttering his eyelashes as innocently as he could muster. 

“Of course, my darling.”

Harry ran his hand up and down Louis’ back once before making his way over to his seat. Louis suppressed a shiver while he sat down in his own. 

***

“Lou, can I ask you a question?” Luna asked softly as Louis was about to leave her to sleep. He and Harry had let them stay up a half hour later than usual with the promise that they wouldn’t snitch to their parents. Harry was currently tucking Emily into bed -- who, much to Louis’ dismay, had fallen in love with the boy instantly -- while Louis took Luna and Jacob. He’d just tucked Jacob in and was making sure Luna was alright. 

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Is Harry your boyfriend?”

He sputtered for a moment, unsure of how to reply.

“Um… no. Just a friend,” he settled on.

“Special friend?” She probed sleepily.

He hesitated for far too long before answering with a breathy, “no.” She stared at him blankly. He sighed.

“It’s written all over my face, isn’t it?” 

She giggled gently and nodded. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Want to know the worst part?” Another nod. “I used to hate his guts.”

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

“Why?” 

“Wish I could tell you, but I’ve been asking myself the same thing.” He hesitated again before giving in. It felt good to explain it to someone, even if said someone was a thirteen year old. “Especially as of late.”

He could feel the blush rising up his neck, and he was thankful that the darkness of Luna’s bedroom covered it. 

“Goodnight, Luna.”

She murmured her goodnight as he carefully closed the door. He took a deep breath and went back down to the living room, where Harry was bundled up in blankets surfing through Netflix. Louis’ heart _definitely_ lurched. 

In an attempt to avoid an awkward where-do-I-sit situation, he took a running start and flung himself onto the couch, letting gravity decide where he landed. Harry squawked as Louis fell onto his legs.

Louis shuffled up onto the couch and put a bit of distance between them, that stupid tension of theirs ever so present again. Harry decided on ‘Friends’ and set the remote on the coffee table. 

Five minutes into the show, Harry kept side-glancing Louis, and Louis was sweating. 

Another five minutes and Harry had taken to looking at him head-on.

Five more minutes and Harry huffed loudly before sitting up, pushing his pile of blankets off of him and holding his arms out to Louis, positively pouting. Louis’ heart was about to come out of his mouth, but he still played hard to get and looked at Harry with a question in his eyes. 

Harry huffed again and rolled his eyes as he pulled a giggling Louis back down onto the couch with him. He wrapped his arms tightly around Louis’ middle, holding him to his front, and slipped an ankle through Louis’ legs for good measure. Louis rested his hands on Harry’s arms, his face flaming. Harry had a hand right over his heart, and he could surely feel it pounding away. He’d be kind of embarrassed if it weren’t for Harry’s beating in time with his right against his back. 

Louis wiggled further into Harry’s warmth, nestling his head into Harry’s neck. In turn, Harry nuzzled right back, pressing the underside of his chin to the top of Louis’ head. Louis was encompassed entirely by Harry’s body, and the butterflies in his stomach were flapping so hard he was sure they would try to escape. 

He couldn’t suppress the giggles that once again crawled their way up his throat. 

“What?” Harry asked softly, laughter in his voice, as well.

“Nothing,” Louis lied, giggles showing no signs of stopping.

“Come on, tell me,” he prodded, squeezing Louis a little tighter before loosening his grip again.

“I’m happy,” Louis finally blurted out, cheeks growing darker. Then it was Harry’s turn to giggle. He pressed his smile into Louis’ hair.

“Me too,” Harry whispered once the giddiness subsided. 

They laid there spooning for another hour before the Sanders came home. They’d sent the boys off with a wave and $20 each, refusing to give in to Harry’s protests. 

Louis drove Harry back to his house, thanking him profusely the entire time. Before getting out, Harry reached across the console and grabbed Louis’ hand, squeezing it and wishing him a goodnight. 

Louis made it around the corner before having to pull over and scream. 

***

They had been neglecting Burger Girl and Louis only noticed when Niall, of all people, pointed it out.

Louis and Zayn were sprawled out on the sidelines of the football field while Harry, Liam and Niall ran around passing the ball to each other. The weather was getting warmer and warmer, and it was a sunny day in mid-April. Liam had begged Zayn and Louis to join them, but they declined in favor of watching the clouds. Inevitably, that turned into Zayn watching the clouds and Louis trying not to be caught watching Harry jog around with his shirt tied around his head. 

He had to have done that knowing that Louis was going to see it. He took his shirt off far too slow for it not to be for show. And there was no way he wasn’t flexing his biceps at least a little bit as he tied his hair up with it, feeling Louis’ eyes roaming his backside. Louis heard a snort from beside him, and when he looked, Zayn was still staring at the sky but with a grin on his face. 

It was during a water break that Niall brought it up.

“We haven’t been to the diner in a while,” Niall said, bending over to sit criss-cross applesauce on the ground next to the boys. The rest hummed in agreement. 

“You’re right. My aunt has been asking where we’ve been,” Harry piped up from about a foot away from Louis. Louis looked up from staring at Harry’s abs in sudden interest.

“Aunt?” He asked. It turned out that Louis was not the only one ogling, because he caught Harry just in time to see him eyeing his thighs, which were still splayed out on the grass. 

“Yeah, her name is Shannon. We’re pretty close. Niall and I used to go there a lot more when we were younger. She always served us the new stuff.”

_I wonder if she ever mentioned me._

“I am kind of hungry,” Liam noted. “You guys want to go now?”

So that was how Louis ended up squished in the middle of Harry and Niall at their booth. He felt severely inferior sandwiched between two brawny football players, like he was some twiggy pop star with a pair of bodyguards. But then he remembered how Harry had literally hid behind Louis the day prior when he noticed a spider on his wall, and then Louis felt a bit less petite.

Louis had called Shannon out on her failure to inform him about her relation to Harry, to which she replied, “I overheard you talking about him once and I didn’t want to risk my unrivaled reviews.”

“I bet you can imagine my surprise when I saw the five of you tumbling out of the same car,” she had added.

Louis could feel the warmth of Harry’s arm behind him, which was resting on the backrest. It wasn’t touching him and it was reaching all the way over to Niall’s shoulder, but it still gave him butterflies when he noticed it. 

He and Harry had been hanging out quite frequently recently. Harry blamed it on Niall’s new fling in the beginning, but that ended soon enough and their hangouts never stopped. He'd even slept over at Harry’s once. Well… only because his car wouldn’t start again and he had to wait until the morning for insurance to come. He slept on the living room couch and woke up at seven A.M. to Harry’s mother getting ready for work. 

When he got home early that afternoon, Lottie had been sitting at the kitchen table waiting to hear every detail. He gave her the finger and continued up to his bedroom.

So they were getting close now. Harry knew about Louis’ little ticks and Louis knew about Harry’s little insecurities. That was about as far as it went. They were friends. Louis was happy.

Except he still did feel a bit giddy every time Harry was nearby -- take, for example, right then: Harry’s arm three inches from Louis’ body. 

“Alright boys, here we are,” Shannon announced as she came over with a tray full of food. Plates were handed out and she sauntered away, stopping at a nearby table to check if everything was alright. The boys dug in immediately, having been more hungry than they thought.

“Do you guys think we’ll still visit here after we go off to college?” Niall wondered after a long stretch of comfortable silence. 

Now that was something Louis had not thought about in a while. Had it been the beginning of the year, it would’ve been on the forefront of his mind, especially with his english class. It was his constant reminder. The thing that got him through the period. _College wants me to take this class._ As if college were some sort of authoritative figure in his life. 

“A writer can write from anywhere in the world. Until I round up enough cash to move to a penthouse in Italy, I’ll be here,” Louis joked nervously, lightening the topic before it could get heavy. “Whether or not you boys join me is up to you.”

The boys chuckled softly.

“I think I’ll be here pretty often, also. I’m not planning on going far,” Liam spoke. “I already got into Bellarmine and I think I’m going to stick with it.”

“I’m still waiting to hear back from that art school I applied to in Cincinnati. I’m thinking I might stay in the area if I get in, maybe find a roommate and get an apartment,” Zayn explained. 

It became glaringly obvious, then, that they’d never broached this topic for some reason. They were seniors, after all, almost nearing graduation.

“I applied to more colleges than I can count on one hand, so I have no idea where I’m going yet,” Niall spoke. “How about you, Harry?”

Louis only then noticed how quiet Harry had been throughout the conversation. When he looked over at him, he realized that he was sitting awfully still and a little pale in the face. He shrugged before speaking.

“I’m not too sure yet, either. I have a couple I’m leaning toward, but I haven’t totally decided yet.”

Due to all the time Louis had been spending with the boy recently, he knew right away that he was withholding an important piece of information. But the other boys had taken that and moved on, so Louis wasn’t going to question him about it. Harry seemed to move on rather quickly, as well, having been grateful for the change of subject. He decided not to stress over it, figuring that he would be told eventually if need be. 

Once they finished eating, they found themselves arguing lightheartedly over football teams that Louis wasn’t necessarily interested in. He was simply just hyper focused on Harry’s arm, which had smoothly wiggled its way between the backrest and Louis’ back. His hand was secured around Louis’ waist and tightened a bit whenever Harry had a point to prove in his conversation. 

Even as they left Burger Girl, Harry kept his arm wrapped around Louis until they reached Liam’s car. He squeezed his hip once more before dropping his arm. He chose to ignore Liam and Zayn’s teasing glances.


End file.
